Wincest One-Shots
by sonovabitchwinchester
Summary: This story includes a collection of roleplays I've had with various people on the internet, most of them (actually, all of them, I think) are not finished, they end where we left off. I may continue some of them on my own later if I have time. There are some shots with the same prompts, but of course with different outcomes.
1. Chapter 1

Shifting in his chair, Sam clicked on another search result, face scrunching up in frustration when it showed the wrong information. Again. Looking at his father from the corner of his eye, he could see the man's patience was wearing thin with Sam's futile attempts to find info, though he tried to hide the way he was watching his youngest like a hawk by staring at his journal laid out in front of him. He was supposed to find useful information on how to kill a Wendigo, it was all wrong though and he could feel that familiar panic bubbling up inside him, chewing on his lower lip anxiously, a habit he'd acquired with time. His palms were starting to get sweaty and his leg started bouncing up and down repeatedly, all signs a panic attack was coming. "You okay there?" John's gruff voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He ignored Dean's concerned stare and looked back at the laptop. "It's n-nothing sir, I'm fine." God, not again, please. He hated this. 'Breathe. In and out. Like Dean taught you' He told himself, trying to keep from hyperventilating.

Dean swept in the room, steam billowing out of the bathroom he'd just vacated. "Found anything?" he asked the room at large, one hand securing the the tiny motel towel around his waist. He crossed the room and dug around in his duffel for clothes, dripping water everywhere.

John sighed when Dean's towel barely even covered anything, thus his son dripping water all over the floor and he directed his gaze at Sam again when Dean asked if he'd found anything. "Ask your brother, he's the one /supposed/ to find something useful." Sam looked down at his lap and vaguely noticed his hands had started shaking, cheeks flushing a deep red in embarrassment at his father's words. It's not like he did it on purpose, today had been a fucking stressful day as it it, and he wasn't at his best like he usually was when it came to research.

Dean noticed too, judging by the way his gaze sharpened. He straightened, halfway into an old AC/DC t-shirt that was clean enough to be worn for tonight, until they made a trip to the Laundromat. He glanced back at their father. "Hey, c'mon," Dean said, obviously picking up on the tension in the room. "It's been a long day, and we're all tired." John sent his oldest a sharp look. "People are dying, Dean. We need to figure this out. Soon." The last word was directed straight at Sam, and he closed his eyes against the trembling of his fingers. 'Keep it together,' he reminded himself. Dad had a different motel room than they did, Sam just had to hold out until it was just him and Dean.

Sam was halfway through tearing the skin of his lower lip when Dean talked, about to send a small, grateful smile at his brother but John's words stopped him from that, hands shaking even more as he forced himself to nod like he knew he was supposed to and clicked on the next search result and god he almost wanted to cry when the information was wrong. Wrong, wrong, /wrong/. All wrong and John was waiting for him to find something but Sam couldn't find anything. His heart started beating faster, eyes frantically reading info after info on the bright screen of the laptop. "Stop that, Sam." Only then he realized his Dad was talking about his leg, which was bouncing up and down rapidly now and he wanted to stop, but he /couldn't/.

John sighed, slamming his journal shut. "Sam, I won't tell you again. Stop." Sam sent a look to Dean, who seemed torn, still only half-dressed, between shoving John out of the room and fussing over Sam, and the years of ingrained obedience and dedication to the hunt.

He tried to stop. He /really/ did. But he couldn't. "Sam." John's voice was firm and sharp, as if he could will his leg to stop with that tone. Sam flinched and tried to control his own body but he couldn't and he was closer and closer to crying out of pure frustration and stress and god, he hated panic attacks so fucking much he didn't want to have one, especially not with John in the room. "I-I can't."

John's stare was steely. "You can. And you will. How can you expect me to believe that you're going to be able to obey orders on a hunt if you can't even do it now, when we're as safe as possible?" Sam blinked, trying not to let the waver of his lower lip break out. "Son, answer me," John demanded. Sam pressed his lips together tightly, trying to control his breathing. John swore and stood, the rickety chair scraping back, and grabbed his jacket from the hook on the door.

Sam's lower lip trembled and he cursed under his breath because he hated looking like a fucking crybaby, he hated even more feeling like one but his Dad's words kept ringing in his ears and Dean was still staring between the two of them, as if not knowing what to do. Typical, he's always on Dad's side anyway, Dean was the perfect son who obeyed each one of John's orders, Sam was just the freak who couldn't even control his own body and freaked out over things like this. John walked out the room, swearing and Sam turned away from Dean in that second, biting his lip and trying to keep tears at bay.

The door slammed shut behind John, and Dean was there, uncurling Sam from his hunched posture in the chair. Sam fought weakly, trying to keep his face hidden, but Dean simply lifted him up to his feet and guided him over to the nearest of the two beds. Sam held his breath against the overwhelming need to gasp for air, and brought his knees up to his chest, hair falling into his face. Dean climbed up onto the bed beside him and rocked him, shushing him and rubbing soothing little patterns on his back.

Sam tried to fight against his brother's hold, a shaky sob falling from his lips and gasping for air at the same time, his chest tightening with every gulp of air he took and now tears were running freely down his cheeks. The day had started out shitty enough, then in school he'd /almost/ had a panic attack though he managed to stop it but students still saw him, called him a freak over it, not that was nothing new to him and now John and Dean...he was overwhelmed. "L-let me go." He muttered, pushing weakly at him though Dean didn't let go but Sam didn't want his comfort. Okay that was a complete lie but he still hated that Dean never did anything to stop John.

"Hush, Sammy," Dean muttered, fingers now deep in Sam's hair, stroking. "I've got you. You're alright." Sam squeezed his eyes tight, and tears rolled slowly down his cheeks. Dean swept them away with his thumbs.

Sam looked up at Dean and couldn't help it anymore, he all but let himself fall into his brother's arms and held onto his shirt tightly, burying his face in the other's chest because he didn't want Dean to see him cry anymore, he hated being this vulnerable and weak. "No, I'm n-not alright, I'm a freak."

Dean's arms tightened around him. "Don't you ever say that," he growled vehemently. "I don't give a damn what those kids at school say about you, 'cause they don't know a fucking thing about you." He scooted Sam further into his lap, and leaned back until he was lying flat out, Sam clinging to his chest. "You're miles better than they are, Sammy," he continued, grip still bruising. "Don't you ever think otherwise."

Sam shook his head, clearly disagreeing with his brother's words but didn't say anything, just kept crying, his head on Dean's chest as he tried to get his breathing under control, still taking shaky gasps every now and then, sniffling against Dean's shirt. It was a while before he muttered words that to him were true. "Dad thinks so too. He thinks I'm a freak that can't even control h-his own body and freaks out all the time over little t-things."

"Dad doesn't think that," Dean disagrees. "Dad just doesn't understand you." He snorts softly. "You two are too much alike. You think that'd mean he understand you better, but I think he sees parts of himself in you, and that scares him." Sam burrows further into Dean's arms. "He's never had a panic attack," he argues. Dean is silent, petting Sam's hair quietly, and Sam knows a victory when he hears one.

Sam knew he'd won the argument when Dean stayed silent, still petting his hair which has always worked to calm Sam down and eventually he stopped crying, though his eyes were still puffy and red, his face still tear stained but he took a deep breath and pressed his cheek against Dean's chest, hands splayed out on his brother's covered stomach. "Why do you always have to stay silent when this happens? You never tell him anything." He regretted the words as son as they were out because he knew Dean hated when it happened as much as he did.

Dean stiffened under Sam, and he wished he could take the words back, clutching all the harder in case Dean tried to untangle them and leave. When Dean spoke again, his voice was hesitant and so unlike the boisterous brother Sam knew. "I - I'm trying Sam, I am, I just..." He trailed off uncertainly, and shifted a little under Sam. Sam dropped his weight so Dean couldn't move away.

"Yeah, I know." Sam said quietly, knowing Dean was never one to stand up to his father, knew better than to talk back, always obeyed, never stepped in when he and Sam were fighting, which was becoming a regular thing. "I hate having panic attacks." He breathed instead, sighing and feeling somewhat tired like he always did after basically crying his eyes out.

"I know," Dean replied. "If I could -" He cut himself off, and they lapsed back into silence. Sam breathed in deeply and hiccupped.

Sam fisted Dean's shirt tightly and kept him close, pressing his ear to where Dean's heart was, hearing his brother's heartbeat and his breathing, which as weird as it may be, calmed him down. God, he /was/ a freak, and not only because of the panic attacks or the lifestyle he had.

Dean laid a hand on his head, keeping him pressed to the steady thump. Sam breathed in, the familiar Old Spice with the cheap motel soap and the crisp, overstarched smell of the scratchy sheets.

Dean smelled like home, as close as home as Sam will ever get, his brother had once told him his home was the Impala and Sam could understand that, after all there had even been times they didn't have enough money for a motel they'd stayed on the car, John in the driver's seat while Sam and Dean shared the backseat, snuggled up and sharing what warmth they could find on cold nights, Dean usually tucking Sammy in his jacket so he could share his warmth with his brother. "I should've found some info, I know. I just...it was a bad day at school and.." He trailed off, sighing at the memories.

"It's not always easy, Sammy," Dean sighed, "You know that. And Dad knows that too, even if he doesn't want to admit it. There have been plenty of times where he's called up other hunters to ask for help. Nothin' wrong with that."

"I know." Sam sighed too, looking up at Dean and nuzzling further into his embrace, floppy brown hair tickling his brother's neck as he did so. "I just wish he'd understand. I can't control it, not really." He said quietly, though a voice was telling him he should be able to control his own freaking body.

"Yeah, Sammy." Dean smoothed a hand down his back. "I know. I know." He pressed a kiss to the mop of Sam's hair.

"At least I have you." Sam breathed quietly but he knew his brother heard him. Dean was usually pretty bent on his rule of 'no chick flick moments' but lately with Sam's anxiety and his attacks, he'd been ignoring that rule, Sam was always the exception to his rules.

"You'll always have me," Dean said lowly, a promise he'd made years and years ago, and never had any intention to break. "I swear it."

For the first time in that day, Sam actually smiled, it was a small, soft smile but a smile none the less and he couldn't care any less at the moment about the jerks from school that had called him a freak, the girls that had giggled and whispered behind his back or the teachers that pretended to not notice when some asshole tripped him and made him fall, Dean made it all better.

Dean smiled too, hidden against Sam's hair, and tucked him in closer to his body. For the first time all day he felt like things were going to end up okay.

"Dad's going to Caleb's tomorrow for some info. We could do something together, we don't really hang out anymore, you're always ditching me for chicks." Sam said that last part in a joking tone, though it was true, Dean had been pretty much leaving him for chicks these days but it kinda hurt when he didn't exactly had many friends and he missed his brother.

"You know I always come home to you Sammy," Dean teased. Sam flushed unwillingly.

Sam tried to hide his face in Dean's chest and teasingly punched his shoulder thought it was more of a push, chuckling softly at the teasing. "Why? Womanizer Dean Winchester's having trouble getting laid?" He teased back.

Dean smirked. "They can't get enough of me, Sammy," he smarmed, "but they only love me for my body." He poked Sam. Sam swatted back. "You wouldn't do that to me, would you Sammy?" His eyes were comically big.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, though he couldn't help the grin on his face as he swatted at Dean's hand when he tried to poke him again. "You mean if I wouldn't sleep with you only for your body?" Sam asked and pretended to put on a thoughtful expression, wondering at the same time how their conversation turned to this but not minding one bit.

Dean's jaw dropped in exaggerated surprise. "Sammy! You minx! You would?" He pretended to swoon, one large hand draped over his forehead. "Baby boy's growing up, huh?" A green eye sparkled wickedly from under his hand.

Shrugging, Sam laughed when Dean pretended to swoon and smirked. "Maybe." He drawled out the word and fell into a fit of chuckles when Dean's jaw seemed to drop even more at that. "I mean, I can see why girls only sleep with you for your body."

Dean cried out in mock scandalization. "Rude, much, Sam?" He whapped him upside the head, but drew the sting out by massaging the spot tenderly. Sam pressed into the touch.

Sam raised a hand where Dean whacked him but stopped when Dean placed one instead, leaning into his brother's touch even though he poked at his ribs, smirking when Dean squirmed, knowing his brother was ticklish. "You're such a jerk." He muttered

"But you love me anyway," Dean singsonged. Sam's fingers unerringly finding the sensitive skin between his big brother's ribs and at the bend of his knee. Dean yelped embarrassingly loudly and squirmed, trying to get away, and Sam found himself reacting to the friction of Dean's body under his.

Sam chuckled at the yelp and went to poke him again but then Dean squirmed, and he wasn't even trying to squirm away so Sam could /feel/ him moving under his own body, and when his big brother squirmed his knee accidentally made contact with Sam's crotch, the younger Winchester biting his lip to keep from making a sound and blushing a deep red because fuck, he shouldn't be reacting this way to Dean. He stopped the teasing right there, choosing the look down instead and pretend this never happened.

"Hey," Dean panted, "hey Sammy, are you okay?" He grabbed Sam by the shoulders, "Is something wrong? Sam, Sam, look at me."

"I'm fine." Sam murmured and tried to roll over so he wouldn't be on top of Dean anymore but the other had a tight grip on his shoulders and he couldn't move.

Dean stared at him, and Sam could feel himself turning redder and redder as realization dawned in his brother's eyes. Dean chuckled deep in his chest. "Baby boy is growing up, huh?" he murmured. Sam tried to drop his head, but Dean caught his chin and lifted it back up. "Hey," he said, face suddenly serious, no trace of ribbing left. "It's alright, 're fifteen. It happens, okay? Nothin' wrong with it. It's normal."

Sam groaned and tried to look down but Dean kept him from doing so, and he had no choice but to stare into his brother's green eyes. "Please don't tell me you're gonna give me 'the talk', I learned that in biology, thank you." Sam muttered, trying to lighten the situation but the blush stayed.

"Nah," Dean grinned. "Dad won't tell me to give you 'the talk' until you start showing some interest in girls, and then he'll expect it to be the same thing he told me: Don't care what you're doing, always wrap it up, no matter what." He pauses. "Jus' saying, its nothing to be embarrassed about or anything. Part of growing up."

"Yeah, yeah." Sam mumbled, trying to get out of this embarrassing conversation and rolling his eyes at the words his father would supposedly say. Of course that was to be expected from him. "Can we please stop talking about how me getting a boner is normal?" He didn't realize his own words until he'd said it out loud and the blush was back in place.

Dean winked but let go of him. "Sure thing, Sammy. You wanna just go take care of that then?" He jerked his head towards the dingy motel bathroom and wiggled his eyebrows.

"I'm not...'taking care of that' when we're in the same room!" Sam exclaimed, sounding horrified at the idea though he was actually more embarrassed that he'd gotten himself in this whole situation, with his brother none the less.

"Where else you gonna do it?" Dean asked. "S'not like we're just drowning in space here, dude. You're gonna have to jerk off sometime."

"I don't /have/ to do it." When Dean cocked a brow at him as if to asking him if he was serious, Sam shrugged and tried to will the blush away. "It'll...go away." He stuttered and knew that was likely to not happen.

"Your call," Dean waved a hand airily, "but as the one who has to live with you, I'm telling you to go take a nice long shower, and to really enjoy yourself, if you know what I mean."

"Well, I would take a nice long shower if we hadn't run out of hot water this morning because /someone/ was hogging the shower to themselves." Sam replied and pulled bitchface number eight at his brother, thinking that actually a cold shower would actually help in making his boner go away.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he dismissed. "You weren't the one who had to go out and work outside fixing cars today to bring home the bread, were you? I deserve that shower."

Sam rolled his eyes too and rolled off of Dean, laying on his back next to his brother and trying to think about anything that could make his boner go away. "So no hot shower, and I'm not gonna jerk off in the same room as you." Sam nodded and simply stared up at the ceiling, blushing when Dean's eyes drifted towards his visible hard on.

"Right," Dean said, too loudly, "I'm going to get ready for bed. You can, uh, try to scrounge up something on that Wendigo, huh?" He rolled up off the bed and into the bathroom, swinging the door gustily closed. At the last minute he caught it, obeying John's rule that inside doors were never shut, let along locked. What use was a partner if he couldn't get to you, after all? Sam watched him brush his teeth from his vantage point on the bed, praying that by the time Dean was done his hard on would be gone, and they could pretend nothing had happened.

Sam laid his head on the pillow and let out a long breath, closing his eyes briefly and trying to think of anything that could will the hard on away and well if it wasn't Sam's lucky day. It didn't. By the time Dean was back, Sam still had the same problem but he tried to hide as he rushed past Dean on his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't supposed to happen. John wasn't supposed to come back until the next day but no, he burst in, no warning, no nothing, luckily having been raised hunters even though Sam was lost in Dean's hums of content, his brother had heard the doorknob turning and pushed him away quickly. John hadn't suspected a thing thankfully, too lost in looking for another hunt right away but ever since that happened Dean had been distant. He knew his brother's...fear of being caught but fuck, now he wouldn't even kiss Sam back when they were alone. Today. Today they'd sort things out. Whether Dean liked it or not. Hearing the roar of his dad's truck, he waited until John was gone to hunt down a ghost before turning to Dean who was cleaning the guns. "We need to talk."

Sam couldn't blame Dean for being apprehensive, could he? It wasn't even that he was afraid of getting caught, afraid of /just/ getting caught - he was afraid of getting caught and getting Sam in trouble, because the last thing he wanted was for John to look down on Sam like something worthless, something vile. Dean could handle that, he could take that onto himself, but he couldn't live if he knew he'd caused John to look at Sam the way he would if he caught them, really caught them. So Dean was doing what he did best - ignoring the problem, burying it deep and hoping it wouldn't come to light. But Sam had always been so attentive, he'd always been the type to never, ever let anything slide. Dean knew that. "We do?" he grunted, peering down the barrel of his dad's shotgun, straightening it out and gently working the bore brush down into the firearm, not inviting Sam to elaborate, not even looking at him.

With a huff that clearly screamed out his utter frustration, Sam stood up from the couch and made his way over to Dean's bed, sitting down next to his big brother and completely forgetting the concept of personal space, Dean obviously hadn't though because he scooted away from him, leaving a ridiculous amount of space between them. Looking down, just enough time to collect himself and not let his emotions get the best of him, especially not let the hurt he felt at the action cloud his eyes, Sam took a deep breath before looking up, knowing Dean would've preferred it if he just dropped it and let it slide but too bad, Sam wasn't having any of that, not anymore, it had been a /week/. "Yeah, we do. And will you at least look at me?" He added, tone edging on anger. Dean barely even looked at him anymore.

There were some things Dean would just drag out until it was hanging by the barest thread, but Sam's persistence wore him down easy, it always did. He made a great display of rolling his eyes, jamming the bore brush down into the shotgun barrel a few times, pointedly, annoyed, before yanking it out and tossing it on the bed, setting the unloaded firearm down along with it. He slumped forward, elbows perched on his knees, and fixed Sam with a brief look before his gaze went down to the floor, hands opening up in a questioning gesture that didn't necessarily welcome the lecture he knew he was about to get. "What is it, Sam?" Dean sounded tired, already exhausted by this, because talking wasn't his strong suit, certainly not when it came to something as touchy as the things he did with his brother in the dark.

He was used to his brother's forte wasn't talking, knew Dean would act like this, he'd live with him for 16 years after all but it still didn't make him any less annoyed and just plain frustrated whenever Dean decided he didn't want to talk, or avoided the subject and acted like this. It got on every single one of Sam's nerves and after a week of no touching, no kissing, hell no talking, Sam wasn't patient enough to put up with this shit, not even when it was coming from his brother and even at age sixteen he'd always been the patient one in this situation. "You know what, Dean. Dad's not here and he's not coming back any time soon so you can stop looking at the door as if he'd burst in anytime now." He paused with a heavy sigh before continuing. "Are you really not gonna talk to me about last week and how you've been /ignoring/ me?" He knew he kinda sounded like a whiny teenager but he didn't care.

Dean knew it was coming before Sam even said another word, because they hadn't "needed to talk" in such a long time that this had to be the only thing wrong, because it /was/ the only thing wrong, the only thing bothering Dean lately was that things weren't right with him and Sam, or at least they weren't right with him. He scrubbed a hand over his face, managing a short, annoyed, "Sam," that sounded more like a warning than anything - a tired warning, but a warning no less. He got up, walking around the foot of the bed and into the kitchenette for a drink of water. "There's nothing to talk about. Okay? So just drop it." It was a desperate lie, because they had every reason in the world to talk about this, /needed/ to talk about it. Dean lingered in the kitchenette, trying to shut his little brother out.

Sam didn't miss the warning, the tone Dean always used when he /really/ didn't want to talk about something and usually it wasn't that big of a deal so Sam would drop it, wouldn't pry anymore but this wasn't only affecting his brother, it was affecting him too and they /needed/ to talk about it, needed to sort things out and Sam needed to know if Dean was ever gonna even /look/ at him again, the way he used to, instead of how he did now, green eyes cold and distant, putting up a wall to hide the affection and care. "No, I'm not gonna drop it. We're gonna talk, whether you want or not." Dean glanced his way before taking a sip of water and at least that was enough to indicate he was listening, even when he didn't want to listen. "Just because Dad almost found out, you're suddenly gonna pretend nothing happened." Nothing between them.

"I'm not- Sam, come on," Dean huffed, exasperated, dumping the rest of the water into the sink and tossing the plastic cup into the trash can underneath the sink, behind the cabinet door. "Look, you don't know Dad like I do, okay? If he ever caught us-" Dean didn't even want to think about it, perish the thought, because he knew John could be vicious when he was met with something he didn't agree with. This would definitely be one of those things. "Maybe... I mean, maybe one day it'll be different, but I can't risk it. I'm not gonna make him mad at you. So we just... it's gotta stop. And it won't even be as bad as you think it is - you'll get used to us not doing anything and then you'll find a nice girl, 'cause that's what you're good at, you're good at being normal like that." Dean sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

Once Dean was done speaking, Sam's eyes were slightly wide with disbelief because one: seriously, he'll 'find a nice girl because he's good at being normal?' right, because their lifestyle was the definition of normal and they stayed in one town long enough for him to even make friends, let alone meet girls and two...Dean wanted to put a stop to it? Wanted to end things between them? Sam /couldn't/ get used to that. Dean thought it would be so easy, that they could just go on like normal brothers and pretend nothing ever happened between them, that they could end the habit they've had of sleeping in the same bed whenever John was out, which was an awful lot. No, they couldn't go back, from that first kiss, Sam knew there was no going back and he was /okay/ with that, he didn't want to go back. "I'll get used to it? I'll find a nice girl?" Sam repeated the words and huffed a dry, bitter chuckle. "That's not what you were saying last time I was sucking your dick, is it?" He knew it was a low blow but goddamnit was Dean seriously gonna do this?

"Hey," Dean snapped, voice gruff, eyes a little dark, because that was too far and Sam didn't have to take it there. This was thin ice and Sam would see, maybe once he was a little older, he'd understand. Dean felt guilty for even allowing this to happen, for not waiting until Sam was a little older, a little more capable of making his own decisions - as if he wasn't perfectly capable already. "Don't be a little bitch about it, Sam, alright?" He let that stern gaze linger on Sam for a few long moments before looking away. It wasn't that he didn't want Sam - even now he was a little flushed, wanting to be near his brother, body programmed to want to take advantage of the times when John was away so that every inch of him felt like it was straining toward Sam.

"You like it when I'm a little bitch for you, remember Dean?" His eyes were just as dark and even as he kept on talking about their sexual life, their not so very vanilla sexual life, they weren't dark because of lust. He knew that gaze, that was John Winchester's gaze whenever he gave his sons an order, whenever he and Sam were fighting about something, that gaze meant 'discussion over' but it didn't have the same effect on Sam as it did on Dean, his brother always the good soldier, the good son, and fortunately neither did Dean's. He approached his brother, threading the line and getting up in his personal space. "Tell me you don't want this."

Sam was making him mad, Dean's cheeks colored with it, a little rosy high in the cheekbones. He pursed his mouth, wanting to walk away from this, and keep walking away until there was just nothing to walk away from because Sam had learned his lesson, had learned to stop talking about this, trying to get Dean to discuss it. But Dean felt himself sink just so against the edge of the counter tops as Sam came toward him, and his resolve wavered, eyes going a little soft. He hadn't been this close to Sam in days and his heart was racing. "I never said I didn't want it," he managed, voice low, rough.

Sam's dark hazel eyes, softened in the slightest because he knew if it hadn't been for John coming back on the time for the first time and god, what a bad timing to decide and make it up to his sons for not being exactly father of the year. Yet, this was Dean's fault, because he didn't have to push him away, they could've gone on like normal, just like they always did, but no, Dean was just too fucking scared of getting caught. "Then stop pushing me away." He leaned towards Dean, hands going to rest on the counter next to Dean, barely inches away from him now. "I don't wanna find some girl, I don't wanna be 'normal'. I want you."

Dean felt like his whole body was just humming with the need to be just a little closer, pressed right up close to his baby brother's lean body, because God, he'd missed that, he'd missed being close to Sam, warm as he could be sometimes. He was gripping the edge of the counter, he noticed, and he made a conscious effort to release the white-knuckled grasp, ease up on the imitation granite. Dean didn't notice it, but he was leaning down toward Sam as if drawn to him, just barely bowing his head down so that they could kiss, if Sam would just tip his head just right, their lips would certainly brush. "Sammy," he murmured, sounding helpless. "I want you, too. God, I do, but-" But what? Dean didn't know.

It had been too long. Too long since they've been so close and Sam wanted more, wanted to smash their lips together and make up for lost time but he managed to shove the urge down just for a minute, just enough so he could say the words he'd been wanting to for a whole week, the words he'd wanted to yell at his brother right after he noticed the difference in him. "No." He murmured quietly, telling him to stop it, to stop with the arguments and stupid what if's, the stupid fantasy that they could go on without this. "Stop pushing me away." This time it was almost pleading but his tone was firm too. Dean just /needed/ to stop pushing him away. Tilting his head a bit, Sam finally closed the space between them, eager lips pressing against his brother's.

Dean felt helpless when it came to Sam. It was hard enough to deny him things that a normal big brother should give his little brother, but this was different, it just... was. Dean could only go on for so long, denying Sam something that he wanted so badly. Dean couldn't stand to hear Sam say that, that he felt pushed away, but that was exactly what Dean had been doing and he didn't mean to, God, he didn't, but he knew that was what was happening. He tensed, but he didn't pull away when Sam leaned up to press their mouths together, and Dean's eyes fluttered shut, breath huffing out through his nose. It took a moment, but he adjusted quickly to the sensation, as if he could /ever/ forget the taste of Sam's mouth, the softness of it, and he tipped his head, too, gingerly kissing his brother in return, tentatively tracing the seam of Sam's mouth with the end of his tongue, wanting in.

Part of Sam had expected to be pushed away, had thought Dean would get angry, would demand him to just /stop/ as if he hadn't already done that but there was another part that just /knew/ Dean would cave in because maybe it wasn't healthy but they needed each other in ways siblings weren't supposed to, they were codependent on each other and could only go on without touch, without any sort of contact between them and Sam was right, all it took had been one kiss for Dean's resolve to completely shatter and let him in, finally let him in. Dean's whole body seemed to relax even though his tongue was still hesitant and tentative, asking for entrance but Sam didn't have to think it twice, parting his lips for his brother, hands sliding down from the counter to Dean's waist, pulling him closer to his own body.

Dean let go of the counter's edge, sighing at the sensation of Sam's hands on his waist, and he wanted them everywhere at once, anywhere, just on him, it didn't matter. Dean felt desperate, trying to keep his kiss from being too eager, trying not to devour his brother right here, first thing. Instead, Dean's hands went up to cradle his little brother's face, kissing him softly, too softly, all hot gentle tongue and no tooth, like Dean was just looking for the taste, wanting to savor that, not the sweet little sounds Sammy makes when Dean nips at him just a little too roughly. He pushed away from the counter, standing up, now, and pressing himself close to Sam's body, widening his stance because he was sure he would fall if he didn't. Dean's fingers brushed back through Sam's hair, gentle, and he pulled back to search his brother's eyes, looking for anything, any sign that they shouldn't be doing this, that Sam was changing his mind.

The kiss had started out eager, Sam had wanted /everything/, but then again he'd been torn, torn between wanting to take things fast, to catch up on lost time or to take it slow, to let himself explore every corner of Dean's mouth with his tongue again even when he already knew it like the back of his palm, wanted to run his fingers over every bit of skin, hear his brother's soft sighs of content and little pleased sounds, sounds that demanded more whenever Sam decided to get a little rough, or when he decided to be a tease and drag it out, pulling his brother's lower lip between his teeth. It sent shivers down his back when Dean's hand went from cradling his face, softly, gently, too the back of his neck, tugging gently at his hair, lighting up sensations that had been asleep all week, too long. When they pulled back, there was nothing in Sam's hazel eyes but affection and want, just plain need for more, more of this, more of /Dean/.


	3. Chapter 3

He thought it would be different. This...new relationship they started having not too long ago, the looks and touches, the kisses in the dark when John was actually there, if he wasn't away on some hunt, leaving Dean to take care of him. Sam thought it meant Dean was in love with him, just like Sam was in love with Dean. And at first, he really thought that was the case, but Dean never said the words, even when Sam did, he knew his brother wasn't one for words but that didn't justify the flirting. Dean was a natural at flirting but Sam thought that'd be as far as he'd go, but no, even 'together', Dean still slept with other people, not only him and Sam was tired of pretending it didn't hurt. He looked up when he heard a door open, watching as his brother snuck in, /reeking/ of sex. "Where you've been?"

Dean loved his little brother more than he loved anything else in the world, more than he thought was healthy. But once they broke past the barrier of 'this is weird, we're brothers', and what they did behind closed doors became a regular thing, Dean got scared. He knew it would get serious and he knew he would fuck it up. So his plan was to keep that from happening, he wouldn't let whatever they had get serious, and then he couldn't fuck it up. Perfect. That was why he was now sneaking into the motel, just for the sake of not waking Sam up. Unfortunately, though, he was awake. "Out." Dean answered casually, clearing his throat and toeing his boots off at the door, shucking off his clothes on the way to the bathroom for a shower.

"Figured that much." Sam muttered though not loud enough for Dean to hear him. He swore to himself he wouldn't let it get serious, this...more than brotherly relationship they had going on, he thought it wouldn't get serious, he /couldn't/ let that happen because he knew Dean, better than anyone else in the entire world, and he knew that just because they kissed and touched each other the way no siblings should, it didn't mean Dean had to be with only him, he knew his brother wouldn't stop flirting, or sleeping around. Sam refused to admit there had been some part of him that hoped he'd stop sleeping around. "Bar again?" He asked in the same casual tone as his brother headed for the shower, knowing that was Dean's regular spot to pick up chicks.

"Um yeah, the bar." Dean answered just as his boxers hit the floor and he reached the bathroom. "I'm takin' a shower, Sammy, wanna come with?" he asked, but after a few moments of nothing he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Alright, well the door's unlocked if you wanna join." Dean sighed, stepping into the bathroom and leaving the door open a crack. What the hell was Sam's problem? Dean reached into the shower and turned on the water, waiting until steam clouded the mirror before stepping in, immediately focused in rubbing all of that chick off of him. The water was burning hot as he scrubbed his skin and made it turn an angry red, but he felt clean, and that was all he was aiming for.

Sam stayed quiet at Dean's question. Really? After he'd fucked someone else? It shouldn't even surprise him anymore though, sometimes Dean felt like having a little fun with Sam right after he'd fucked another chick, pretending nothing had happened, other times he'd be too tired, Sam guessed to go another round, still he doubted Dean could ever get tired. Sam sighed and looked down, toying with the sheets and wondering what the hell was wrong with him. It wasn't like he owned Dean or some shit like that, hell even when Sam had made the mistake of saying 'I love you' once, Dean didn't return it, his brother could keep fucking every chick in town for all he cared...except that he did care and that was the problem.

Dean never took his eyes off the floor of the shower, even as he washed his hair. That ended with a nasty case of shampoo in the eyes, which turned them red and watery. Once he stepped out of the shower, he quickly dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist, making a mental note to pick up his clothes in the morning. Entering the main room, his skin was much pinker and more irritated than it had been before and his eyes made it look like he'd been crying, but he still whistled as he padded to his bag to pull out some fresh boxers and a t-shirt, slipping into the clothing and tossing the blanker over a chair. Like it had been practiced, Dean immediately made his way to Sam, kissing a trail down his jaw and petting his soft hair. "G'night Sammy." he said before crawling into the other side of the bed and pulling the covers over himself.

Sam watched Dean put on clothes, frowning slightly at how pink Dean's skin looked but made sure he wasn't frowning anymore by the time his brother got into bed with him. He stayed completely still as Dean trailed kisses down his jaw and stroked his hair, eyes focused on his brother's neck, a lump forming in his throat. "Shower didn't do much." His voice started out quiet and he could see how Dean tensed at his unexpected words but he still went on. "You still got some lipstick on your neck." Red lipstick, red marks on Dean's neck and the other probably didn't remember to scrub them clean. Only a second after he said it, Sam realized how incredibly bitter his tone had come out. It had been the first time he'd called him out on it.

Dean paused, swallowing thickly and licking his thumb, using it to scrub where he thought the lipstick was. Dammit. He turned around to face Sam and hesitantly grabbed his waist, pulling him back and fitting him against Dean's chest. The eldest softly kissed his brother's shoulder and curled an arm around his waist, fingers tracing circles on his belly. "How about we go get breakfast in the mornin', yeah?" he asked. "Don't know when dad's getting back, but we can go get IHOP or somethin."

When Dean pulled him against his chest, Sam's eyes finally locked with his brother's and he really hoped Dean wouldn't be able to see the hurt and anger swirling in his hazel eyes. He resisted the urge to lean into the kiss and relax under Dean's fingers, internally scoffing at the other's words, obviously trying to change the subject. Right, because he wasn't supposed to know, wasn't supposed to talk about it. If they both kept their mouth shuts about it things were fine, that's what Dean thought, right? That's how it was supposed to be. But stupid Sam had to go and make it serious, had to go and fall in love with his brother and here the other was only in it for what?...Sex? That's the way it looked. Pulling away from Dean, Sam cleared his throat and put distance between them. "Got a feisty one tonight, huh? There are bite marks all over you."

Dean blinked as Sam pulled away, brows furrowing slightly at the new space between them.. That never happened.. "I do not have bite marks all over me." he grumbled, scratching his neck and feeling a few blossoming bruises. Why.. Why the hell was Sam talking about it? Dean shook his head and lied back down on his back, staring at the uneventful ceiling. Sam would forget all of this in a couple days, so there was no use talking about it.

Scoffing, Sam sat up and swung his legs over the bed, not even wanting to be in the same bed as Dean right now. "Right. You also didn't fuck some chick you picked up at the bar." Sarcasm dripped from his words. This was all new. Sam calling him out on it, pulling away, hell not even wanting to lay down next to his brother. He'd sleep on the fucking floor if he had to. Right now though, he just wanted to think it all over, not with Dean in the fucking room.

Dean sat up abruptly and gripped two tight handfuls of the comforter in his fists, his face twisting into one of anger. "What the hell is your fucking problem?" he snapped. "First you don't answer me when I ask for a shower, then you point out that I have lipstick on my neck, then you won't even fucking touch me, n' now you're yelling at me for having some meaningless sex? What. the. hell?"

"I'm not yelling at you!" Okay, so now he was yelling, but he hadn't before and Dean snapping at him for his more than justified behavior wasn't helping him calm down. "Believe me if I yelled at you every time you had meaningless sex with someone it would be right after you finished fucking me." Sam had never spoke with such venom in his words but he'd had enough. Hell, for all he knew, Dean saw 'this', whatever they had as meaningless sex too and Sam didn't, it meant something to Sam.

Dean fucking froze. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared right at Sam, head tilted a bit as his eyes watered in the corners, tears not falling, but blurring his vision nonetheless. It was the shampoo in his eyes, that was all. "You think it's meaningless?" he asked, trying (and failing) at keeping the hurt from his eyes. "You think what we.. you think it's meaningless? That's it?" Dean growled, clenching the comforter so hard in his hands that for a moment he heard the stitches breaking.

Sam saw the hurt in Dean's eyes but refused to let it get to him. Dean had no fucking reason to feel hurt by his words, it's what his brother thought of it, right? After all, he still went ahead and had sex with everyone on his way. "Well that's what it is, right? Just meaningless sex." No. He was not about to cry over this, Sam looked away and hoped the other hadn't seen the tears in his eyes. "That's all this is to you, that's why you have to fuck everyone else."

"Fuck you Sam, you have no idea!" Dean yelled. "It's not fucking meaningless! Not even damn close, do you understand me? If I don't fuck the girls- I- Sam I have to, okay? Because if I don't then this thing we have is gonna get serious and I can't let that happen." he finished, his knuckles white and his muscles tense. Dean let go of the blanket to scrub a hand down his face and held it there for a moment. He needed a drink.

"Too fucking late, Dean. It's already serious and you can't expect it to not be just by fucking someone else!" Sam had the sudden urge to pull at his hair or do something with his clenched fists. Dean was scared? He'd been fucking scared when he realized it wasn't just lust he felt, but love but he still went ahead and said it. "Why do you have to make me feel like shit just because you're scared. Sleeping around every damn day, making me think I'm not enough." His voice cracked at the end and he looked away when he felt the first tear fall down.

"No!" Dean shouted. "It's not serious! It can't fucking be!" From that point on, tears started falling freely from his own eyes, and he didn't even attempt to hide them. He stood up from the bed and strode over to Sam, grabbing both sides of his jaw and looking him in the eyes. "You're fucking perfect." he growled. "If you don't think you're not enough, that's your fault. Too fucking good for me Sam. you know that?" Dean studied Sam's hazel eyes closely and felt his heart skip, his hands begin to shake. "I can't love you." he said through clenched teeth. "Can't love you 'cause everyone I love dies." Dean hissed.

Even when Dean made him look into his eyes, Sam wasn't really looking, couldn't really look because then it would be too real, the fact that Dean was crying, his brother never cried, he couldn't say the same for himself, tears were already falling down his face as he refused to look at Dean, eyes firmly on the floor. He finally made eye contact when Dean told him he was perfect and to Sam that was a fucking lie, he'd spent this whole time believing he wasn't enough, some words weren't gonna change his mind. He froze though at those last words, eyes softening. "But I love /you/. It's not fair." Sam shook his head and put his hands on top of Dean's. "I'm not dying and neither are you."

Dean paused, looking down at Sam's hands which were now covering his own. He leaned forward and kissed one, blinking a few times. "I'm sorry.." he said quietly, pulling his brother forward and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, nuzzling against the boy's cheek. "I fucking suck.. shittiest big brother in the universe." he muttered sadly, shaking his head and tightening his hold on Sam.

Sam closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, burying his face in his neck and letting out a deep breath. Pulling back, just enough to look into Dean's eyes, Sam wiped away his tears hastily. "I didn't mean for it to happen, Dean." Hadn't mean to fall in love with him but it happened anyway. "I didn't want to call you on it but it fucking hurt when you came back, reeking of sex and covered in marks every time."


	4. Chapter 4

Panting slightly, Sam rolled off of Dean, watching as his brother got rid off the condom and started sitting up when Dean walked back to the bed, smiling and leaning forward to kiss him until he felt something hit him in the face. Sighing, Sam picked up the discarded shirt just as his brother told him to clean himself up. "You got a chick coming over?" Like he needed to ask. This was their routine. Come back from the hunt with pent up energy, have wild, usually angry sex and then, thanks for participating now go away so I can actually fuck a girl and not my brother. Or at leas that was Dean's routine. It had been like this for a while now and while Sam was okay with it, at first, his feelings grew into something more. Dean's didn't. It was just sex to him. Sam had thought about putting a stop to it because while the sex was great, probably best he'd ever had, the hole inside of him seemed to grow each time they fucked. Dean never kissed him on the mouth. He'd nibble and suck on his neck, chest, but he'd never press their lips together. It was like his brother's rule, like maybe if he didn't kiss Sam he could keep pretending this never really happened. It was just a stress reliever for Dean anyway.

Dean hated this routine. Well, more like loved it and hated. It was nice rolling around with Sam in bed, one of them fucking the other, giving blowjobs and handjobs, exploring the other's body with kisses and touches. That part was amazing, even if Dean kept out the kisses on the lips just because it made it easier to pretend everything that happened with his brother in bed never really happened. It was the same reason for why he hooked up with a girl seemingly right after a hunt, just to get out of the funk of having just slept with his little brother. "Yeah. That cute waitress from a couple of nights ago. She's coming around soon. I'll try to be quick so you don't gotta ditch the room for long," Dean said, as if that made things better. Make things quicker so Sam had to hide away for less long. Of course, he wasn't stupid enough to think it was actually a decent peace offering. Dean started reaching for his clothes, breath still slightly hard from the orgasm his little damn brother caused. "Hey, do you want to hit the shower and wash up first?" Dean asked, wanting to get rid of the smell and the come before his girl got here. Plus, he was sure Sam didn't want to keep all of that on him either.

Nodding, Sam managed to keep a straight face upon hearing who was gonna be next on his brother's list. Dean could always read him like a book but time passed and Sam worked on hiding his feelings from his brother, worked on his poker face so the other could never really tell what he was feeling. There were times, he allowed himself to be open but right after they fucked? Yeah, not one of them. He had to hide the hurt and pain he felt whenever Dean brought someone else over. He hated the way he had to lock himself in the bathroom or go take a walk so Dean could have his fun with the new girl; it was worse when he was in the same room though because he was able to hear /everything/, the moans, groans, gasps and pleas for more. Hear how Dean was washing away everything they did. "Yeah, sure." He replied in a casual tone, knowing Dean didn't want the room to smell like sex before the chick arrived and headed for the bathroom, only dropping the mask once the door was closed.

Dean's eyes followed Sam into the bathroom, relaxing once the door was closed. The clock filled the room and Dean dumped his clothes back onto the bed him and Sam just fucked in. He did his best to ignore his thoughts and feelings, to ignore the fact that after one too many times of doing that with his brother, he had realized it wasn't even just about the sex, which was amazing. The feelings made it better and so much worse since it was just that. Just sex. Shaking it off, Dean grabbed his boxers, opting to just wear those while he waited for his brother for his chance to shower. He took his clothes back off of the bed, stripping the bed clear of the sheets and the blanket, knowing they couldn't possibly too clean now and they smelled like sex. Reeked of it. He'd have to tuck it away in the corner and fuck the girl in the clean bed, same as always. The routine was never changing, though that was just what Dean wanted. This stupid thing him and his brother had gotten into was awful. Down right shitty. Apart from the mind blowing sex. And even his sex craved self thought it wasn't enough at times. And it just made things worse not knowing what his brother thought of the damn thing, his brother who wasn't even used to meaningless sex like that.

Stepping into the shower once it was scalding hot, Sam let out a quiet sigh. Dean had his own way of washing it away, washing the come and smell and everything they did away, by fucking someone else. Sam also had a method although it didn't involve someone, he wasn't like his brother, he couldn't pretend it never happened and jump into bed with some girl he'd met the previous day. Sam was in love and it downright sucked because when he was, he couldn't go off to someone else, so he did this, he scrubbed at his skin until it was red and slightly irritated, until he could wash the marks Dean had left on him, until he was so clean and Dean couldn't smell the come on his skin anymore. It was a shitty way to cope and a harmful one at that but his brother never seemed to notice and that was all Sam cared about, as long as Dean was kept in the dark, he could keep coping like this. Because being in love with your brother is never easy, especially if he doesn't feel the same way. After a while, he turned it off, skin bright red and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist before walking out the bathroom, steam following him. "All yours."

Dean looked over at Sam once he was out, having to hold back any noises at the sight of his brother. Damn, he really would kill just so he could sleep with his brother and only his brother, to have something more than they had. More than the sex. For it to not be nothing to Sam. And, yeah, he would want a relationship with his brother, no matter how disgusting it was and no matter how against he would be of showing relationship qualities. Wanting to ignore it, he headed towards the bathroom, wanting to get done quick for round two. "I'll make sure we don't take long this time so you can wait here or whatever you'd choose to do, but since it won't be long, might as well go for a bit of a walk or something," Dean told, closing the door behind him to drop his boxers to the ground and get under the warm, hot water. This helped him forget Sam and the sex more. There was a long list of things he did to get over their sex, apart from avoiding kisses, cleaning the motel of any evidence, and fucking girls. He just had to avoid touches with his brother for a day after that, although they were used to being shoulder's length apart at all times. He kept distance.

"I think I'll just take a short walk." Sam mumbled, avoiding looking at Dean as he put on clean clothes, looking up when the door closed and glancing at the tangled sheets on the floor, licking his lips slightly at the memories of him and Dean rolling around in them, kissing, caressing, Dean's hands gripping his hips tightly as Sam rode him, bouncing up and down his brother's body. Clearing his throat to himself, Sam shook his head and willed the thoughts away, he was gonna need a cold shower if he kept this up. Taking the sheets from the floor, he tossed them away on the laundry basket and sat down on the bed, hearing the sound of water running until there was a knock on the door. Standing up, he grabbed his gun and pressed it against the door at the same time that he opened, relaxing and tucking it back in when he was faced with a girl. He didn't even have to ask who she was, it was fairly obvious.

When Dean heard a knock at the door, he was sure to hurry up with his shower. He finished scrubbing the smell of sex of off him, made sure there was no more come on his stomach or cock. And once he was clean, he quickly got out of the shower, wrapping his towel around him and shoving the door open. He heard the girl from the restaurant speaking to Sam, sound loud in the quiet of the room. "Uh, hi? I got the right room, right? Dean? I think I remember seeing you with him," the girl said. Taylor, Dean remembers her name being. Dean quickly shot his brother a look, hoping his brother could talk to the girl long enough for him to get dressed. He just had to slip on his boxers, jeans, shirt, and jacket. He tried to dry off his hair a bit too so it wasn't completely soaked. He really owed his brother so much for putting up with his after sex sex, no matter what his brother felt about their sex.

Sam pressed his lips together, discretely checking the girl out, not because he was 'enjoying the view' as Dean would say, but he always did this to himself, study the girl Dean was forgetting him with. This one was blonde, which was rare because his brother went for brunettes most of the time but obviously Dean could appreciate a blonde once in a while. Snapping out of his thoughts as he realized the girl was staring at him, Sam shook his head and frowned slightly. "Sorry, what?" She repeated her question, a little frustrated he hadn't been paying attention and Sam nodded, stealing a glance only to see Dean getting dressed and turned back to her. "Yeah, Dean's my brother. He's taking a shower, will be ready in just a second."

Dean, again, was grateful for everything his brother did to contribute to his post sex. He had more time to get ready, putting all of his clothes on and making sure he looked good for the girl. Taylor. Dean always made sure he remembered the name of the girl before they fucked so he could remember it in bed, though he would usually forget it afterwards. The only exception was obviously Sam. Once he made sure he looked good for the girl, Dean walked over to the door by Sam, wrapping his arm around his brother's shoulders. "Hey. Sammy here was just heading it out. Sorry to keep you waiting, sweetheart," Dean said, flashing a signature smile at the girl, who seemed to be focusing more attention on Dean now than Sam. From the sounds of it, Sam didn't make a good impression by seemingly ignoring her at first. "See you later, dude," Dean said, tugging his arm away from Sam to pat his back a couple of times.

Tensing at first when Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders, memories of where that hand had been minutes earlier hitting him. It was happening more and more this days, Sam would cling to the memories, maybe he was a masochist for it because every time he remembered how Dean had acted with him during sex, he knew somehow this girl had it so much better because while she was a one time thing, she'd get kissed on the lips, she'd get gentle sex, depending on how she liked it because he knew Dean had always been a considerate lover, except with him, with Sam it was messy, wild, angry and while it was mind blowing all the same, sometimes he wished he could get the gentle touching, the soft kisses and slow pace. He didn't and he never will. Putting on a tight smile for both of them, Sam nodded at Dean and stepped out the room, sighing to himself once they were inside.

Dean let his gaze stick to the brunet until he closed the door, only focusing his attention on the girl once it was just the two of them. All alone. No signs in the room whatsoever to prove what him and his brother had been up to less than half an hour ago. Sometimes it was amazing how quickly he could get himself up, pretty sure that was all thanks to the constant adrenaline he had from always hunting. That definitely caused his adrenaline and energy to skyrocket. Having Taylor in the room proved neither of them wanted to wait with meaningless chatter as she had her arms wrapped around his neck, whispering about how he looked good, asking if he tried to look good just to impress her. Dean chuckled and before they knew it, they were making the other bed be in the same state as the other had been, smelling of sex and covered in come. Though it did take longer than with Sam, just because he went with slow instead of quick. With Sam it had to be quick, to forget that it was his brother he was fucking, to be sure they could get rid of this thing they shouldn't be doing sooner, just because the only time they had sex was after hunts when they were both still on a high adrenaline rush after a hunt. And if it meant anything, Dean would have to admit he had to bite his tongue once throughout the sex to keep from letting his brother's name leak out, eyes closed and picturing someone else moaning for him.

Because Sam was an idiot and a masochist he stayed outside the door for a while, screwing his eyes shut when the moans started. Yep, definitely a masochist. Really, he should've known when he started feeling something more for Dean and yet let the whole thing continue, the whole meaningless sex thing. He couldn't take it anymore though, not when Dean was moaning her name like that, Taylor, fucking Taylor. The girl was not to blame, of course but still, he couldn't help but hate her even if just a little bit, sue him. Taking a walk to clear his head, Sam spent his time away from Dean thinking it over. Tomorrow Dean wouldn't touch him, he never did right after they had sex, his brother needed a little space he guessed, some time to forget about how he'd fucked his little brother and how disgusting it was. God, he was just Dean's fucktoy and sometimes Sam got so mad at himself for letting it get this far. Once time had passed, he thought it would be okay to go back, not even bothering to knock like he'd usually do, simply bursting in only to find them both still breathing heavily in the afterglow, the chick choosing that moment to press a kiss to Dean's lips. Sam's heart broke a little more.

Although Dean promised to keep the sec short, it didn't turn out to be shorter than the normal sex he had with any other girls. He could try, but the time helped to forget how he did this with Sam not long ago. Plus, hell, it was a habit. Not just because of the fact he loved sex and wouldn't mind dragging it out to last longer, but because he always kept it sweet and long, slow and meaningful, even if they both knew it was meaningless in the end. Dean was surprised to see his brother burst into the room, having a mouth pressed to his before he could have any reaction. He smiled down at Taylor with heavy breath, just relieved his brother had walked in on the two of them while they were still going hard at it. He didn't need to have his brother see him fucking her, moaning her name and her his. It would be a total mood killer for starters. He pressed his own lips against hers, deepening the little kiss. "God, you're amazing," Dean murmured, small smile coming out to make her return it. "Sorry about Sam. He usually knocks. You're welcome to use the shower before you hit the road. And don't worry. My brother doesn't stare," Dean laughed softly, pressing a kiss to her neck then the corner of her lips. The kicking out part was always the worst.

'Look away' that's what his brain was telling but apparently his eyes weren't listening because they stayed fixed on the bed, watching them kiss, Taylor was yet to notice he was there, only turned around when Dean apologized for Sam's behavior and mentioned that he always knocked, making it pretty clear sleeping around was an habit, but then again, she probably already knew that. An iron fist clenched around his heart at Dean's words when he told her she was amazing and pressed a kiss to her neck and the corner of her lips. Sam never got sweet words, hell, Dean barely even moaned his name and it unusual if he did but then again that meant Sam did something right in bed. Of course she'd never hear an 'I love you' from his brother either and that was the only consolation prize Sam could get. Promptly ignoring the girl, Sam headed towards his bed and picked up the book he'd been reading, ignoring when she stood up and looked at him for a minute almost as if expecting him to give them another minute or something but eventually Sam looked up and simply raised an eyebrow. "You're done, aren't you?"

Dean had been surprised at how Sam barged in without even knocking, shocked since he was sure his brother wouldn't want to walk in on him and his girl screwing each other senseless. He was more shocked by how Sam was acting once he was inside. Dean shot his head over to the younger man, narrowing his eyes at him. Taylor seemed slightly offended, looking to be almost ready to shoot back some remark to the younger brother. Making sure there wasn't anything to happen between them, Dean faced Taylor again, standing in just his boxers to press another kiss to her lips, grabbing her hand and wrapping the other around her neck to bring her close for a minute. "Sorry about him. Again. He's not usually such a bitch," Dean mumbled, aware of how he was sounding like he was apologizing for some kid. Right now, he couldn't bother enough to care. "Don't know how he could be a dick to someone so pretty anyway," Dean smiled softly, wanting to make sure he kept up his act though he did drop it a bit once he got the sex, no use in keeping it up. "If I wasn't ditching town early tomorrow, I so would have preferred cuddling all nigh." It was enough to make Taylor smile and giggle again, kissing Dean for another time, and hopefully off of Sam now.

Returning the glare when Dean narrowed his eyes at him, Sam rolled his eyes when Dean apologized for him. So maybe the whole thing was enough to put him in a bad mood, what's so surprising about that? It was bound to make him pissed anyway, the way Dean kissed her and held her hand, how he called her pretty and said he'd prefer cuddling all night with her. He knew it was all an act but it still hurt because all Sam got was a shirt thrown in his face so he could get cleaned up. Why did 'Taylor' get a kiss and sweet words even when Dean didn't mean them, Sam would choose that over being ignored and thrown out of the room. Glancing down at his book, Sam ignored the fire in his belly, that feeling of shame, of being used that always built up in his gut right after they had sex. It was stupid because the sex was surely consensual but Sam wanted /more/ and Dean only wanted his body.

Not bothering to give Sam anymore attention, Dean focused completely on Taylor. Sometimes he chose his girls based around some part of Sam, whether it be his eyes or height, though brunette was something he always preferred over all other colors, a habit he developed subconsciously after they slept together for awhile. And sometimes he chose someone who looked nothing like Sam, just to get rid of the memory of Sam in a better and more effective way. Taylor was one who looked nothing like Sam. Short, blonde hair, bright blue eyes, pale skin. Just clear of anything that would resemble to Sam's appearance. Taylor and Dean talked for a few more minutes, sweet nothings whispered from heavy breaths and more kisses and touches passed through their already sweaty bodies. A couple of more minutes and soon Taylor was leaving, luckily not taking up the offer of a shower, saying she had to be home soon, whether it was a lie to get out. His guess was she didn't want to stick around Sam long, as she did peer at the shower but looked to Sam. His damn brother more than likely made her run off, though he wasn't pissed about that. Once she was gone, Dean turned back to his brother, sweet attitude instantly dropping as he frowned and glared at the other. "Sammy, mind explaining what the hell that was all about? You didn't have to be a damn dick to her."

Sam avoided looking at them, although he couldn't help but catch a few of the words they whispered to each other, thinking Sam couldn't hear them but c'mon, you had to have a sharp ear when you were a hunter, Dean surely knew that and probably didn't care whether Sam heard or not; of course his brother also thought Sam saw what they had as just sex, too. Sam wished it was just meaningless sex for him, that way he could avoid the heartbreak that was still coming, still hitting him each time Sam saw his brother with someone else. As soon as Taylor was gone, saying she had to be home early, which made Sam huff because it was obviously an excuse to get out of there, he ignored her glare and watched her walk out the room. Narrowing his eyes at Dean when the other glared at him, Sam shrugged and barely kept himself from screaming out that sometimes he was bound to fucking snap and he had the goddamn right to be a dick because it was better than crying and showing how much it hurt that Dean slept with someone else. "You two were finished and I'm sharing the room with you. It's not my fault she couldn't see it was time to go."

That wasn't a good excuse. It just made Dean more pissed off with his brother, pretty sure half of the anger was just pent up aggression about the whole brothers with benefits thing they had going on between them. Maybe Sam snapping would just lead to him snapping and this argument, even if not big, wasn't something that they really needed. He still stood his ground, looking at his brother with disbelief. Usually his brother was not at all that much of an ass, usually completely nice and sweet and girly. "She wanted a minute and it wouldn't have ended you to give us a couple of moments alone. You didn't have to be a complete ass about it either," Dean pointed out, voice holding anger as he said the words. Really, Dean wouldn't normally be so pissed off by that. He would probably be a bit ticked off that his brother was giving so little care to one of his meaningless one night stands, though he might find some entertainment in it too. Right now, he couldn't.

"Don't give me that crap. You didn't actually care about her, did you? She's just another good lay to you Dean. Sex was over, you could've dropped the fucking act so stop bitching to me about how I'm an ass!" Sam was surprised at himself for raising his voice, for even saying any of this stuff to Dean. Usually he would've gave them a couple more minutes alone, maybe wait outside the room, just enough time for her to leave, he'd give her a tight smile or maybe just nod as he walked out and then everything would go back to normal. But as proved, it was just a matter of time before Sam snapped and it looked like the time had come. He was so freaking tired of meaning nothing to his brother, of not having his feelings returned, of having to watch Dean fuck someone else and whisper sweet words in her. Sam was done. He didn't want this anymore, he didn't want to have this part of Dean if he couldn't have all of him. Maybe it would be worse, maybe the ache in his heart would grow but it was for the best, Sam could overcome this on his own, needed to do it on his own or else Dean would never let him get over it.

And that was just reassurance that something was up with Sam. That wasn't his normal behavior and although he wasn't modest enough to never swear, he didn't usually have the mouth of a sailor. Something was up with Sam. Dean was being motivated to argue by pent up aggression and held back feelings that were more than likely glad to be released in some way. Sam was motivated by who the hell knows what. "What the fuck is your problem, man?" Dean asked, running a hand through his hair as he stared plainly at his brother, looking over him as if spelled out in large letters and a flashing sign, the answer to what made this change in his brother would be right there. "She was a good lay, but you don't gotta be a douchebag. Hell, you're still being a complete douche. What the fuck crawled up your skirt?" Dean wasn't slipping into his bed yet, wasn't doing anything. All he could do was stand, be pissed, and argue.

Dean's words, the way his brother was also pissed along with the room reeking of sex but this time it was different, this time there was also that perfume smell that definitely didn't come from Dean. It was all too much, it was overwhelming and Sam had finally had enough of this shit. Instead of giving a straight answer because even though he was mad at Dean he still didn't want to completely ruin his relationship with his brother, that is, he didn't want Dean to hate him and be disgusted with Sam. The sex was one thing, admitting he was in love with Dean? Yeah, that would definitely ruin everything, including their brothers with benefits thing, although Sam was the one putting a stop to it now. So instead of saying what was bothering him, Sam muttered three simple words. "Fuck you, Dean." His stare was hard and it wasn't said in a playful or annoyed tone, it was a tone that spelled 'I'm done with you'. "Fuck you." Then of course he repeated it for emphasis. Pressing his lips together, Sam stood up and headed for the door. "Yeah, I can't." He muttered to himself as he reached out to turn the knob. He just needed out of there.

Dean felt his shoulders sag at the small phrase from his brother, feeling it hit hard. It obviously held a fuckload of meaning, this fight turning into something more than he wanted it to. Just with those damn words that made him feel a rush of more anger and fucking guilt. When his brother got up, Dean's heart picked up pace, not wanting his brother to ditch him while they were in the middle of a fight like this. "Don't you dare walk out on me," Dean growled, realizing only after he said it that talking like that wouldn't loosen up his brother any to get Sam to come out and confess what was making him so upset and so down and so pissed off. Dean took a deep breath, clearing himself of as much of his angry attitude as he possibly could in one single breath. "Look, you running away from the damn fight will make things worse, won't it? So why don't you just grow a damn pair and tell me what's got you so pissy," Dean said in a icy tone, voice a lot more quiet and far from yelling, somewhat more calm. It just still held anger and obvious unpleasant words.

Taking in the sag of Dean's shoulders, the way Dean's expression faltered and he stepped back slightly, almost as if he'd been punched, Sam could tell just by his body language that his words hurt. Good. He'd been the one carrying all this hurt for so long, it was about damn time Dean felt the way he did, although this was far from how Sam really felt, so goddamn far. Pausing, hand still hovering over the knob when Dean growled at him, Sam still didn't turn around, his back facing Dean as he closed his eyes briefly and opened them a second later, only to reach up with one hand to wipe away an angry tear that fell. This was not the time to cry, this was him ending what he should've ended long ago, this was him snapping. This was not him breaking down only to confess his true feelings towards Dean. Turning around, Sam could only hope Dean wasn't able to see his slightly red eyes and gathered up the courage to send Dean a glare of steel. "You." Watching Dean frown slightly in confusion, Sam suddenly shoved him away with newfound anger, voice rising once more. "You're my fucking problem, Dean. Watching you kiss that fucking bimbo and tell her how you'd rather cuddle with her..." Scoffing at that last sentence, Sam continued. "That's what got me so fucking pissed."

If anything, even if the fight wouldn't be resolved in anytime soon, Dean was glad to keep his brother in the room. It might not last, delaying some sort of running away way good enough for him. Storming away from fights were never helpful, something Dean learned after being the one to run out or abruptly end a fight before it had the chance to run it's course and end on it's own. "Me?" Dean repeated, listening to the rest of the words. He had to repeat them in the back of his head, trying to make some sense of what he was told. It made absolutely no sense to him. That shouldn't tick his brother off. Since they were teenagers, Sam would catch Dean in the act of being as charming as he could be, kissing girls when Sam was around. The only difference was he wasn't usually caught lying in bed, breathing hard. "Oh, god. You're not fucking jealous or some shit, are you? 'Cause that's the only damn reason I can think of for you to be pissed about me kissing a girl and saying stupid shit to her." And right now, Dean was hoping that would be close to the truth. Hearing that sex with his brother meant more to Sam to would be good, even if in the middle of a large argument.

Looking away at those last words, Sam stayed silent for a while, breathing hard already because he was so damn mad, so jealous and-fuck, he was just at his breaking point now. "So what if I am?" Where was all this shit coming from anyway? What happened to 'not ready to ruin his relationship with Dean'? His mind was telling him to shut up but at the same time Sam wanted to let it all out, his mouth was running wild and it was like verbal vomit, something Sam couldn't escape. Maybe this would be it. It would be for the better and if Dean ended up hating him, well, Sam would have to deal with the fact he ruined everything and the self loathing that would bring. Maybe it was better than living a lie and pretending everything was peachy. "What if I'm jealous, huh?" He watched Dean's expression but only caught confusion and a glimmer of something he couldn't quite place. "Have you ever stopped to think that maybe I want you to kiss me, really kiss me like you mean it and not like I'm one of your fucktoys?" Stepping closer to Dean, Sam shoved him again until his brother was backing up against a wall. "That maybe I want those sweet words even if they're fake, even if I know you don't mean them? Have you ever thought that maybe I want this to be more than just sex?" Eyes suspiciously misty, Sam stepped away from Dean and realized what he'd done just as his voice got quiet. "That maybe I love you."

There was nothing to do or say as Sam was spewing all of this at the older man, just able to stand and blink at the man as if none of it made sense to him. Like it was something he couldn't comprehend. A simple fact a child would have trouble taking in. Was there any other way to react when the brother you knew you liked too much was admitted the same thing to you in the middle of a heated argument. Dean could just blink and stand, even once Sam's mouth shut up finally and distance was refound. Sam wanted all that he wanted. Dean should be ecstatic. it was hard to choose a feeling. Awful considering they were brothers and neither should feel this way, let alone act upon it? Good because this was what he wanted? Shitty because he had led Sam on for so long and there wasn't a point in doing so, even if unintentionally? Pretty sure there wasn't a right answer, Dean was stepping forward. Questions were out of the equations. He could say more than enough sweet words when it was an act. When it wasn't, not a damn compliment could grace his lips at times. So he responded with this instead. Stepping forward and shoving Sam against the wall, pressing him hard against the probably decade old wallpaper. No way he would even say I love you. This was his move. Shoving his brother roughly then shoving his lips against Sam's, finally giving him a kiss like Sam bitched about. And it did seem like he meant it, holding no intent of showing Sam was just a fucktoy. Whether this was the right move or not, he was clueless. He was just acting on instinct.

The silence was deafening in the room and for a moment Sam honestly thought about walking out, leaving Dean behind for a week or more, just enough time so that maybe Dean could forget all this, or pretend it never happening. They were both good at pretending, they could deal with this in their own way, just pushing it aside and act like it never happened. He was expecting Dean to stare at him in disgust, laugh at how he'd taken this the wrong way and how he thought he'd made it clear nothing was ever going to happen between them, hell Sam would even welcome a punch over this damn silence. But none of it came. His brother stood, blinking at him with an unreadable expression the whole time. Sam was tempted to yell 'Say something!'. Instead he looked down, stomach getting tied up in knots at the realization he'd screw everything up. A moment later though, Sam was shoved against the wall and Sam closed his eyes, figuring Dean was about to spit some harsh words in his face or punch him or maybe get a good look at his disgusting little brother. That's why the lips against his own shocked him so much. He still let himself sink into it because he'd been wanting this for so long and hell, maybe this was the only time he'd get it but Sam pulled away after a minute. "Don't." He said quietly, still keeping his gaze down. "Don't do this just to get me to shut up or because you think I'll stop bitching. Just...don't do it if you don't mean it, Dean."


	5. Chapter 5

Eyes roaming over the last few lines on his script, Jensen sighed heavily and tossed the papers aside, reaching out for his beer as he leaned back on the couch, looking around his trailer as he took a sip. It felt so empty without Jared there. Yeah, he knew it was his own goddamn fault for not taking him up on his offer but what was he supposed to do? Jared had looked so hopeful about his date with Genevieve now that she'd come visit him, only to realize he and Jensen had made plans already. Was he supposed to keep him away from his girlfriend? Jared had looked hesitant about it but when Jensen assured him he'd be fine, plus he had to memorize his lines, he'd simply clapped him on the back with a dimpled smile and went off where Gen was already waiting for him. He looked so in love with her, and fuck if that didn't hurt. Of course, falling in love with his best friend, almost brother, would be something that only happened to Jensen. Head snapping up when he heard a knock on his door, Jensen frowned and checked his watch before standing up. Maybe it was Misha, he had said something about wanting to rehearse and he usually tended to stop by at night.

Usually Jared would be feeling a lot better on a cool night like this, but somehow he found himself feeling kind of distant and out of place when he was with Gen. They'd gone to a small restaurant for Italian food; initially he'd been into it, though after a while it felt like he was missing something. He tried to ignore it for hours but eventually he just had to get up and go, apologize, kiss her on the cheek before he left to go back to the set. This wasn't something he would normally do, just leave Gen out of nowhere, and even she'd been a little bit taken aback by how he was acting. Though he did know one person always cheered him up no matter what, and that person was always Jensen. The door to his friend's trailer opened and a smile came on his lips, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. "Hey. Mind if I come in?" he asked, dimples out and on display, his cheeks a little red from the cold air outside.

Blinking in surprise upon finding Jared - not Misha, or anyone else really- but Jared, it took Jensen a second to finally find his voice and process Jared's question, nodding after a while. "Yeah, sure. Come in, Jare." He stepped aside to Jared could come inside his trailer and took a quick look around even though he knew nothing was out of place; Jensen was some sort of neat freak and even if it had been it's not like Jared cared anyway. Making his way to the fridge, Jensen got a beer for his friend and took the one he'd been previously drinking, settling down on the couch next to Jared. "So, I have to ask. What are you doing here when you should be out with your girlfriend, huh?" Not that he minded having a little company, especially if it was Jared, it just...they were always spending time together anyway and Jared barely got to see Genevieve anymore, his best friend treasured the time he got to spend with her.

Moving inside after shutting the rattling, creaking door after him, he settled down comfortably as he normally did, though this time anyone could tell there was something bugging him. "I don't know, that's the thing. I, uh... You know. I'm usually pretty excited to see her," Jared rambled, resting his arm back against the couch cushion, and scratching the back of his head with the other hand. "But this time, like. It didn't feel as good as it normally does when she comes. And it's weird." It was genuine, all the confusion that was changing the expression on his face; furrowed brows and a kind of tired look that was evident enough to see from a mile away. His eyes were trained on the wall, flicking from there to his lap, but not really looking to the side at Jensen. He was still trying to process his thoughts and compose the right words to say. "You get what I mean? I sound kinda crazy." The last sentence was accompanied with a nervous laugh, shaking his head with a sigh.

Taking a sip from his beer every now and then as Jared talked, Jensen listened to his best friend in silence, chewing on his lower lip once he finished and shook his head, giving Jared what was hopefully a reassuring smile. "That's not crazy, Jay." He purposely ignored the part of him that actually felt kind of relieved about it because, well, he'd felt the same way when Jared broke up with Sandy and it didn't take long for him to find Genevieve. "I felt the same way when I was with Danneel. I loved her, man, I just..." Trailing off, he looked away and took another chug from his beer, fingers sliding down the cool bottle. "It suddenly went away." He failed to mention that that had also been the time he figured out he was in love with his co-star.

Hearing what Jensen said finally made his head turn to look at him, gaze falling to the floor again as he tried to sort out his thoughts because he /did/ know he'd always carried a soft spot for his best friend. Not like with any of his other friends, or past friends he'd been close with because this was different. Jared knew what the feeling was and on countless occasions, whether it be premieres or award shows or just being around him in general, he felt it. "Yeah. Exactly like that." He was back to gazing at Jensen again, eyes jumping across his facial features as if he was looking for something. Maybe he was. "I'm not sure if it's because I... feel more for another person," Jared dared to add, keeping his voice low in spite of no one being around to hear them. At all. "Or some other unexplained reason, beats me."

"Maybe you should talk to her about this, man. Y'know, figure things out." Becuase as much as Jensen wouldn't mind having Gen out of Jared's life, he did /not/ want a repeat of what happened after Sandy, his best friend had been a mess. Looking up from his almost empty beer, Jensen noticed the almost intense way Jared was looking at him and couldn't help but shift in the couch, starting to grow uncomfortable under his stare. "Dude, quit staring at me like that. Do I have something on my face or what?" He wasn't wearing his glasses today and Jared liked to tease him about those, maybe he was blushing and his freckles did tended to stand out. Goddamnit. If Jared could only stop.

Blinking a couple times, Jared looked away while clearing his throat, running a hand through his long hair. "Sorry, man. I'm all confused with my thoughts right now." To wave that awkward situation as far away as possible, he got up to go retrieve a beer from the small fridge in the corner of the room, popping open the cap of the beer as he sauntered back over to sit on the couch. Maybe a bit of alcohol would make him relax, stop being so on edge like he had been all evening, and sit back for once without overworking himself. "So, what've you been up to while I was gone?" The taller of the two asked, sitting in a way so he was facing Jensen. "Miss me at all?"

Relieved that Jared's attention wasn't on him anymore, Jensen let out a breath once the other stood up and headed to the small fridge in the corner of the room to get a beer. Rolling his eyes playfully, Jensen grinned at his friend and turned so he was facing Jared. "Of course. There was no one to eat all the food in the fridge while you were gone." He teased and chuckled at the reaction he got from Jared. It was true though, Jared could eat for both of them, not to mention that he had a stash of candy in Jensen's trailer already. Shrugging, Jensen reached over to grab the pages from his script and showed it to his friend. "Just working on my lines, man."

"Lemme see." Jared reached over for the stapled packet of papers, having skimmed through his own copy but hadn't really analyzed them yet-or at least the scene that they'd be doing the next morning. His tongue came out to swipe at his lower lip as he read through the lines of a particularly intense scene, imagining how exactly it would play out on screen and it made him pretty excited. "Alright, I have a suggestion." His smile turned into a goofy grin, followed by a happy laugh as he handed the papers back to Jensen again (who looked extremely gorgeous as always). "Read me some of 'em. But don't do that thing where you totally butcher them on purpose. Actually do it, I'll be here listening." Jared then leaned back against the armrest of the couch, raising his brows as he took another sip of his beer.

Handing the script over to Jared, Jensen followed the movement of the man's tongue as it swiped at his lower lip, swallowing thickly, although it hopefully went unnoticed by Jared and leaned against the couch at the other's words. "Alright, lay it on me." He said with a smile, widening at Jared's familiar goofy grin, though once he actually heard the suggestion, Jensen bit down on his lower lip but couldn't help a chuckle as he took the script back and read over some of Dean's lines. "You gonna practice with me, Jared?" He teased the other but focused on one particular scene that he'd liked and cleared his throat, his tone changing to that deep one that he associated with Dean's. "That really what you think? Because none of it, /none/ of it is true."

Almost immediately he remembered what the scene was, and went off of memory for his line just to see if he'd gotten it all down. Jensen's Dean voice, he had to secretly admit, was extremely hot, especially when he got angry and menacing, which usually required for the other actor to deepen it down to this husky, silky timbre that made his skin trickle with heat. Guess he could get somewhere with this practice, since they were in private and all. With a deep breath, he put on his Sam facade, looking back up to Jensen with his helpless puppy face. "How do I stop?" he asked, his hand going over to his forearm to reenact the scene-the part where the trials were starting to negatively affect Sam's body.

Of course this wasn't the first time they did this, just...practice their lines, the two of them, with no one around; no cameras or any other actors, no pressure, just the two of them channeling Sam and Dean like they've done from the start. Jensen's features softened just like they were supposed to, shaking his head slightly and scooting closer on the couch to Jared, like Dean would've done for Sam. "Just let it go." He knew it'd be a whole more emotional once they actually shot the scene, there would be tears and pauses to collect themselves after they were done but even now, damn, Jared was an amazing actor, just the way he portrayed the utter desperation in Sam's tone.

Their practices were always a special kind of intimate when it only involved them. Mainly since no one was there to hover over them, watch their every move to reassure the lines and their emotions and everything was going good. Right now he felt at ease, his heart skipping faster when Jensen scooted closer though he just had to remember it was for the scene, for the show. Jared shook his head just noticeably, his eyes starting to water as he got more and more into character. "I can't," he breathed, his voice weak and helpless and pleading for help. "It's in me, Dean. You don't know what this feels like." It sometimes felt damn magical how the two of them could snap into their characters whenever they wanted, how they had such great chemistry together whether they were on set or not.

Jensen could see Jared's eyes were staring to water as he got more into character, knew that Sam was right there now and well, after eight years of playing their characters, it wasn't really a surprise. Eight years. Fuck, he'd been best friends with Jared for eight fucking years now. The thought only reinforced what he told himself every morning: he'd never tell Jared he was in love with him. He wasn't risking their friendship. "Hey, listen, we'll figure it out, okay? Just like we always do." Taking Jared's arm in both of his hands, looking down for a second, Jensen pretended to tie a bandana around it, fingertips ghosting over tanned skin before he pulled back slightly.

Keeping that same lost, defenseless face on, Jared-or Sam, rather-watched as the other acted out his part, wishing he could just curl their fingers together, pull Jensen as close as he could... There was a bunch of stuff he wanted but he pushed all of it aside. It would be unprofessional and he wasn't willing to risk any of it, not right now. They were both drawn into a hug, another Sam and Dean hug, and Jared pretended that the 'glow' in his arm was starting to fade away, pulling away. "Hey, Dean," he murmured, holding out his forearms to look between the two, watching as this fake 'glow' started to disappear. His breath came in short, erratic pants, flipping his arms around just like how Sam would to double check, see if everything really was okay.

Jensen pulled Jared into a tight hug, the kind of hug Dean would give Sam to reassure his little brother everything would be okay, that it didn't matter if the world was ending because they still had each other, that's all that mattered. Pulling back when Jared held out his forearms in between them, looking down at them with some mixutre of amazement and relief, Jensen smiled up at the other and nodded, hands placed over Jared's forearm as the orange glow started 'fading'. "See?" Told you everything would be alright, Sammy. Even now, as they practiced, Dean's thoughts were still with him, making their way inside his head and making it so much easier for him to forget all about Jensen and focus on his character.

Honestly, Jensen never failed to blow him away with his grade A acting skills, never failing to nail a scene, shoot above everyone's expectations. Jared bit down on his lower lip and grinned at him, breaking character now. "Then I groan all dramatically, you drag me out. We got this, dude." There was a large smile on his face, squeezing Jensen's thigh before leaning back to take a couple more sips of his beer again. He blinked away the tears in his eyes, feeling a lot more relieved now that they'd gone over this so there wouldn't be as many mistakes made when they got to filming it later on. Not that he minded mistakes, especially ones with a bunch of endless laughter and fooling around together. Still, it was nice having this all down.

Blinking several times, Jensen grinned back at Jared, finally breaking out of character to focus on Jared now, not Sam, pushing Dean to the back of his mind. "Yeah, we do." He agreed with a satisfied smirk and leaned back to take a few more sips of his beer just as his best friend did. "Man, wish we could have time to practice like this all the time." Because sometimes everything was too rushed and there wasn't enough time, and they had to end up going over their lines in front of everyone and while yeah, Jensen didn't mind, it was better when it was just Jared, just the two of them. "We shoot this episode and until next season." Jensen lifted his bottle to clink it against Jared's with a smile. He loved his work but he cherished the time off whenever they finished a whole season.

A similar smile curved the edges of his lips up, their bottles clinking against each other's, and he took another sip before settling back with a happy sigh. "Can't believe we've done this for so long," Jared said, feeling on top of the world right now even though it wasn't such a glamorized or huge moment. Just two guys hanging out together, enjoying their company together like they had been for years and years. "I could keep going until Sam 'n Dean are like. Eighty years old. I remember this fan once told me that she could imagine Dean as an elderly hunter in a wheelchair or whatever going around making deals with demons to heal Sam from like some fatal disease. I'd totally go for that!" He laughed at the thought, glad they'd come this far already. Eight seasons was a whole lot and if he kept on working with Jensen, he would go for as long as he could.

Chuckling at Jared's words, Jensen let out a happy little sigh, much more relaxed now that the tension between them was gone. God, he was so stupid. Of course it'd always be like this in the end with Jared, the two of them were so accustomed and used to each other's company, they couldn't be awkward around the other anymore. "I can totally picture that." Leaning back, Jensen looked down at his beer for a moment before shrugging and looking back into Jared's eyes with an easy going smile. "So, what are your plans once we're done filming? Still planning on visiting your family?" Jared had told him a while ago that his momma had been scolding him over the phone for not showing up back at home more often and Jared had promised the visit the minute they let him off. Sherri was one hell of a woman, alright and Jared was definitely a momma's boy.

"Oh yeah. We have it all planned out too. Megan and Jeff are coming down too so we can all be together for a while... but other than that, I have nothing booked unless something pops up." He really did get homesick a lot of times, particularly when he was spending time alone thinking about his friends and the people he missed most, which he didn't get to see too often while he was filming the show. In a week or so, they'd be done with season eight which was when he could take a flight back to his parents' house, spend a while there. And Jared really did want that quality time, he loved it so much. Tapping his boot against the floor, his gaze drifted back over to Jensen again, giving him a questioning, curious look. "What about you?"

Jensen smiled as Jared talked about his brother and sister, spending time with them and probably going to his parent's house while they were on leave. The Padaleckis had become a second family to him and he had to admit, he kind of missed them, not to mention Sherri's cooking, which he would never admit to his own mother but it was far better than hers. Shrugging, Jensen set his now empty bottle down. "Don't know. My parents wanted us to go back home soon as I finished but Mack's on vacation with her new boyfriend and Josh is still busy with work, so...going all by my lonesome self doesn't exactly sound appealing right now." He loved his parents but it'd be kind of lonely in their giant house without his siblings there.

Nodding, he swiped his thumb across the label on the glass bottle in his hand, wishing he could help out Jensen in some way with all that. "Hey, you could try to arrange something. See when they're not busy sometime later, and you can all go be together at the best time for all three of you? I think you could work that out." He tried to sound as encouraging as possible, patting Jensen on the back as he stood up to go put their empty beer bottles in the trash bin, and sit back down again, shrugging off his jacket. "If that still doesn't work out for you, I'll come back over and we can do things together. Sound good?"

"I guess. Thanks, Jay." Jensen smiled up at him, ignoring the warmth that settled inside of him as Jared was patting his back, letting out a breath once the other pulled away. "Mack's new boyfriend is douche, by the way. Just wait until you meet him." God, the guy was honestly a jerk and even though Mackenzie knew that both he and Josh disapproved, for some goddamn reason she decided to stick with the dick. Well, what else could an overprotective brother do if his sister was determined on dating assholes? She deserved so much better, too bad she settled for less. "My parents have also been pestering me and asking when you're coming over again. I swear man, they like you more than me." He joked and nudged Jared as the other sat down again.

Jared laughed at the last bit, shaking his head. "C'mon, maybe they like me just as much as they love you," he joked with a good-natured grin, going back to the topic that Jensen had brought up before that. "What's wrong with her boyfriend?" For some reason he really liked talking to Jensen about this personal stuff; it proved how much of good friends they were, able to talk about family and private life without worrying about what the other would think. It was a kind of friendship that came by rarely, he absolutely loved it and cherished it with his entire heart. "What's he like?"

"Nah, they definitely like you more. Apparently, you appreacite my mom's cooking." Huffing, Jensen turned to look at him with an almost accusatory glance. "C'mon man, I love my mother but she can't cook for shit. You just like being on her good side." Laughing slightly at that though, Jensen spread his arms over the couch and leaned back with a sigh. "He's an inconsiderate asshole, that's what's wrong with him. I don't know man, it's like she purposely dates douchebags who most definitely don't deserve her."

With a hum, Jared gave him a sympathetic look, rubbing his leg as if that would make things better. He just found that Jensen seemed to ease up when he was hugged or touched, kind of like Dean in some aspects. "Give her a phone call sometime and see what's up. She listens to you, seriously. She'll realize it. And your mom's cooking is fine! She's good." Jared chuckled as he remembered a dish that she cooked once; it was edible food though it couldn't be compared to his own mom's out-of-this-world recipes, plates, etc.

"I hope. I know she's smart enough to realize it on her own, beats me why she's still with him but she's realize she deserved more. Still, I'll give her a call." He nodded to himself, relaxing slightly when Jared rubbed his leg in a comforting way although oh, he definitely wanted there to be more. Turning to give Jared a look that plainly said 'are you kiddin me?' Jensen cocked a brow and kept staring at him. "Dude, she's decent, but seriously, she makes me miss your mom's cooking." He chuckled softly and hummed before changing the subject to Jared's family. "How about you? How are Megan and Jeff?"

"Jeff's pretty busy with his doctor stuff, I heard he's got a couple athlete patients who got really injured and he's the best in the field over there, so he's gotta focus on that for now. Super stressed out. And Megan's working on her writing." He smiled at the thought of both of them, his wonderful brother and sister, how much he missed both even though he called them all the time for casual, random chats. It wasn't the same as being there in person, of course. Jared subconsciously kept his hand right on Jensen's thigh, unmoving, eyes roaming around the interior of the trailer. "We're all trying to plan a trip up to the mountains, all five of us. Go get a cabin and jet ski."

"Well, you'll get to spend time with them in no time." Jensen assured the other with a smile. It was clear that Jared missed his brother and sister, and while he knew he tried keeping in touch, calling them up every time he could, it wasn't the same. Looking down at Jared's hand, his thumb rubbing up and down Jensen's thigh, he licked his lips, biting down softly on his bottom lip and letting one hand rest on Jared's big one. "M'gonna miss you, Jay." Even though they spend every day together and most people would think time away from each other would be like a breath of fresh air...he cherished the time he got to spend with Jared.

Jared would be lying if he said that he didn't get at least a little emotional over that, giving his best friend a sad yet pleased smile as he looked down at their hands. "You're saying it like I'll be gone for a whole year," he murmured, head lifting back up so he could stare at Jensen again. "I'll miss you too. It's always hard around the end of the seasons." Sometimes he didn't know when he would be able to hang out with Jensen due to their separately busy schedules, though he would definitely make a lot of time for them to hang out together, no matter where it was. Jared turned his hand around so he could squeeze Jensen's hand, that same smile still on his lips-the one that held a lot of 'I love you's behind it.

Chuckling softly, Jensen stared down at their hands, pressing his lips together when Jared laced their lips and squeezed tightly. Fuck. How long could he keep this secret? A secret that could ruin an eight year old friendship. Could ruin everything he had with Jared. The thought was sickening to say the least. "It's just always different without you. I mean, who's gonna finish all that candy that I still have left because /you/ brought it here?" He couldn't help but grin at his words and looked back up into hazel eyes. Fuck, Jared was beautiful. It almost made him feel sorry for Sandy and Genevieve. Almost. Because he wanted all that beauty to himself.

"No one else is gonna eat it. You bet your ass you'll save that for me!" With a lighthearted smile, the brunet scooted closer, and took in a deep breath. "Man, I don't get to tell you this often enough, but you really mean a lot to me. I mean that. And I keep saying this probably every time we end a season and in between, but seriously, I don't know where I'd be without you." Jensen had helped him through thick and thin, for better or for worse, like the goddamn wedding vows said-so many people referred to them as husbands on set, too. It felt like that at times. Jared squeezed his hand again, his heart skipping beats like he was a teenager with a crush.

Jensen rolled his eyes but grinned at Jared's bright smile. That fucking smile could light up the whole room, and it usually did, Jared was like a walking rainbow and sunshine, brighting up everyone that met him. Jensen's life included. As Jared scooted closer, Jensen couldn't stop the way his heart started speeding up, swallowing and looking into Jared's eyes as the other told him that. They didn't say it often, though the affection between them was painfully visible, sometimes 'too' visible as Misha liked to joke. "Dude, don't get all sentimental on me now." Though he grinned and squeezed Jared's hand gently. "I know, Jay. You...you mean a lot to me too, y'know?"

"I know," he mumbled, feeling like a little affectionate love and care was needed between them every so often, the sappy romance movie moments. Even if the two of them shrugged it off with a laugh, it still permanently engraved itself into Jared's memories to be played over and over and over again whenever he felt down. The quietness of the night was a lot more noticeable now as he looked over Jensen's face like he was about to make a really important decision, tugging on his lip inside his mouth, toying with his inner cheek. How he wanted to lean forward and close all that stupid space between them, press up against Jensen, get rid of the barrier between them. But really, he doubted that his friend felt the same way, or ever would. Plus he had a girlfriend, so... this would never work out.

Jared was doing that thing again. That thing where he just kept looking at Jensen as if trying to figure something out and he felt so damn vulnerable and exposed. It was stupid, but he thought that all Jared had to do was look a little harder to finally realize how Jensen was so stupidly, hopelessly in love with him. When did he become the protagonist of a sappy romance comedy, really? Oh, life's irony was so cruel. He couldn't help the slight and hopefully unnoticeable blush that creeped up his cheeks, probably making the row of endless freckles on his nose and cheeks stand out. Jensen was pulled out of the moment when a sense of discomfort took over him, an annoying itch on his eyes making him blink several times. "Ah, fuck." He murmured once he realized what it was. Stupid. "Hey, could you get me my glasses from my room? They're next to my bed."

He'd been in another strange trance too, and Jensen's voice took him right out of it, making Jared lean back and curtly nod before getting up to go retrieve the glasses. Shit, he had to seriously tone it down, make sure that it wasn't going to be obvious that he just... /wanted/ something more than their friendship. Not as if being merely friends wasn't enough, it was, though he could only hope for more. Jared went right over to the bed towards the far side of the trailer, picking up the cute, thin-framed glasses, which were right next to a photograph of some of the actors-him, Jensen, Misha, Mark, Felicia, Ty, Alaina-all hugging with big, shit-eating grins on their faces. He smiled at it in remembrance of that time, knowing what day of filming that was. It calmed him down from that daze just a few seconds ago, and thank god he'd been wiped out of that or else god knows what he could have accidentally done. "Here you go," he said, handing the glasses to Jensen and sitting down again.

Jensen watched as Jared walked away to retrieve his grasses, taking that chance to carefully pull his contacts out of his eyes. Goddamn, sand paper in his eyes, he'd forgotten he had to take them out or it was starting to feel uncomfortable. "Thanks." Smiling up at his friend, Jensen took the thin framed glasses from him and slipped them on, blinking twice before finally getting used to the feeling. "Freaking hate these glasses, man." Of course he never wore them in public, especially not when there were cameras around, though he remembered this fan telling him the glasses actually made him look more handsome. Chuckling under his breath at the memory, Jensen leaned back once more, glad that he'd regained his composure now, god knows what he would've done.

"They're cute," he teased, but genuinely meant it-Jensen looked like an adorable nerdy guy with glasses on though at the same time it was hot as hell too. Which seemed impossible, but Jensen had a perfect face and perfect everything so it didn't come as a surprise that he looked so good with anything. "You should wear them out more, you'll get a bunch of compliments. I look /horrible/ with them, unless they're sunglasses. But yeah. Prescription ones make me look bad." Jared leaned back to stretch his abdomen and stomach, t-shirt riding up his flat stomach a couple inches before he sat back up again.

"They're not cute." Jensen pulled a face at that and tried desperately hard to ignore the blush that threatened to take over his face every now and then. Goddamnit, he had to get his shit together before Jared noticed or called him out on it. "I won't argue that, man. You do look pretty bad with them." He teased and chuckled when Jared purposely stuck out his lower lip, practically pouting at Jensen as he leaned back and stretched his ginormous limbs over Jensen's couch. Looking away almost immediately when his shirt rode up, showing off tanned skin of Jared's stomach, he scratched the back of his neck and took a deep breath before turning back.

A soft sigh left his lips as he finished up stretching, completely aware of Jensen's blush and out-of-nature discomfort. Or maybe not discomfort... but he decided to keep on taunting him to see where it led. "You're blushing, dude." Jared sat up, his eyes trained on the pink color of his co-star's cheeks, which made him want to reach out, brush his thumbs over his skin to make it stay. An amused laugh left from him; toying with Jensen would be pretty fun, he thought, and there was nothing to lose anyways. Friendly teasing. "Is it because of my super hot stomach?" he asked with a grin, his brows wiggling.

"Shut up, dude. I'm not blushing." He growled playfully but had to look down and hide that damn blush from Jared's eyes, hoping it would go away by the time he looked back up. Once he did, pink fading out, Jensen cocked a brow at Jared's teasing tone and honestly, it was hard to take him serious when he was wiggling his eyebrows like that, grinning like the goofball he was and leaning closer. Jensen couldn't help but burst into laughter, wrinkles forming on the corners of his eyes as he leaned back with a smirk. "What else could it be?" Forgetting all about his previous discomfort, he leaned closer and playfully tapped Jared's stomach.

Whether it was friendly teasing or merely flirting was beyond him... but he loved it beyond words when Jensen returned it. Jared hummed at the poke to his chest, feeling a sudden rush of gratitude for having worked out so much the past few years to get this fit. Before all of that he still had been thin, but not as toned, as one might say. "Agreed," he said, a smirk crossing his lips as he tapped his fingertips across Jensen's jean-covered thigh, going from the area around his knee towards his stomach, back and forth in steady little pitter-patters. "You were blushing, Jensen. Way too obvious. Should've taken a picture of it, I think your ears turned a little red too." All those freckles stood out a lot more whenever his face was covered in a pink flush, and Jared always thought it was the most gorgeous thing in the entire world.

"Oh yeah, you don't even know what you're doing to me right now, Jared." It was beyond him how his tone came out teasing and playful when it reality, it was only the truth. Funny how Jared thought he was joking when it was how Jensen had felt for a really long time now. Fuck, he was fit too. It shouldn't surprise him though, he knew Jared liked working out and taking long runs in the morning, much like Sam, actually, he even brought Jensen along with him a couple of times in the past. "I'm blushing because you're embarrassing, Jare." Rolling his eyes, Jensen smirked and looked down at the big, strong hand running up and down his leg, back and forth until Jensen was shifting slightly on his seat.

There were a lot of mixed signals he was getting from Jensen all at once, a rollercoaster of different things that had him wondering where the other man stood. Sometimes he thought maybe there was a slight, teeny tiny chance that Jensen thought of him as more than a friend. He was always slapping Jared's ass and pulling him in for tight hugs and kissing his cheeks and winking, then at other times when he tried to play the same game on Jensen, like right now, the guy got all fidgety. So he was going to be ultimately confused until he found out what was up. "Me? Embarrassing? Uh huh, ask Misha and he'll say that /you're/ the most embarrassing one of us both. And the dorkiest." Jared let his hand rest against the cushion of the sofa now, smoothing his lips together. Observing.

"That's because you two have been ganging up on me ever since I pulled that prank on him." Jensen wiped at his eyes and pretended to sniffle. "And now I know what betrayal feels like. It hurts, Jared." He turned his head around, staring off into a wall dramatically and didn't even try to stop the grin tugging at his lips once he heard Jared's familiar laughter. God, the guy wasn't modest in the least, always letting out one of those loud, prolonged laughs that made Jensen smile until his cheeks hurt. Seriously, how was he the only one in the set who fell in love with him? Certainly there had to be someone else, maybe Jeannie, she got to do Jared's hair for fuck's sake, she got to feel that silky, smooth perfect hair, there was no way it didn't affect her.

He was wearing the biggest smile in the world as he laughed, nudging Jensen's leg with his foot. "Cheer up, drama queen. I meant what I said though. You're a huuuuuge geek." Jared wondered what the fans would think if they saw this happening right now, if one of them was there to see how they acted around each other. Lots of them loved their interactions together, the silliness at conventions and red carpet events and casual outings together. Even when they were taking pictures with fans they always found a way to be close to each other whether it was by hugs or being all playful. Like it was meant to be. But he hated thinking that because it wasn't true.

Huffing, Jensen nudged Jared's leg with his own foot right after he did it, grinning and scooting closer on the couch now. "I'm the geek? Right. Says the guy who practically forced me to have a Star Wars marathon with him because his girlfriend wouldn't watch the movie with him." He remembered Jared had been with Sandy back then. Even though she had been dating Jared and...well, of course Jensen was gonna feel jealous of her, he actually kind of liked her and he remembered how she'd practically threw him a pleading look, begging to take Jared off her hands and save her from hours of sitting down on Jared's messy trailer while watching Star Wars.

"Star Wars is cool," he said with a fake pout, noticing now their arms were touching along with the sides of their thighs. "You like it too, man, you can't deny it. It's awesome." Jared wished it could be simple to reach out, slide his hand into Jensen's, lock their fingers together, rest against him. They'd taken naps on each other before, done countless of best friend stuff that involved a lot of being close, of course-though they'd never gone as far as kissing or holding hands unless it was cold or they needed to. Plus, it was just a hand-in-hand thing, something platonic that was nowhere near being romantic. Which sucked.

"I'm not denying that, I'm just saying, you're the biggest geek here." Honestly, they were both pretty geeky, another reason they got along so well; both of them being Texan boys, having the same taste in movies, music, pretty much everything. The chemistry had been there right from the start. Of course it hadn't been like a freaking love story, Jensen didn't fall in love at first sight but...time passed and he actually got to know Jared, got to work with him and see what an amazing guy he was, watched him grow as their friendship did too. Fuck, now he was the one getting all emotional and shit. Looking down at their hands, fingers brushing, Jensen wished he could reach out, hold Jared's hand because he /knew/ that their hands fit. They fit. It was corny as hell but it made Jensen think like the puzzle piece people talk about when refering to their partner.

Jared could imagine it; he could practically /feel/ Jensen's lips on his, the soft and plushness of his lower lip against his own thinner one, perfectly melded together. If they weren't brothers on the show he would've somehow tried to get them to kiss... it was just something in his mind that he wished could happen, another fantasy. "Truce!" he said, looking at Jensen with a smile that showed his curved dimple and /god/, was the guy the most gorgeous thing up close. Since they were sitting so close it only meant that their faces were a way's away, though still in a close proximity. Jared made the mistake of looking down to those pretty pink lips and averted his gaze after staring for a few seconds, a small sigh leaving him.


	6. Chapter 6

Eyes roaming over the last few lines on his script, Jensen sighed heavily and tossed the papers aside, reaching out for his beer as he leaned back on the couch, looking around his trailer as he took a sip. It felt so empty without Jared there. Yeah, he knew it was his own goddamn fault for not taking him up on his offer but what was he supposed to do? Jared had looked so hopeful about his date with Genevieve now that she'd come visit him, only to realize he and Jensen had made plans already. Was he supposed to keep him away from his girlfriend? Jared had looked hesitant about it but when Jensen assured him he'd be fine, plus he had to memorize his lines, he'd simply clapped him on the back with a dimpled smile and went off where Gen was already waiting for him. He looked so in love with her, and fuck if that didn't hurt. Of course, falling in love with his best friend, almost brother, would be something that only happened to Jensen. Head snapping up when he heard a knock on his door, Jensen frowned and checked his watch before standing up. Maybe it was Misha, he had said something about wanting to rehearse and he usually tended to stop by at night.

Jared stands outside Jensen's trailer door, fist raised - poised to knock. But honestly, he doesn't know if he's gonna do it. He should just turn around, go back to his own trailer, and get some rest. People might not know it by looking at him, but he's having a bit of a tough time. Dating's really helped that - getting out, meeting new people. And Gen is - well, she's smart and beautiful and knows exactly what he needs - when he needs it. But he can't keep up any more, and that's not her fault. She deserves better - which is why he had to end things. His lip quivers. He needs to talk to someone - he needs to talk to Jensen. But he doesn't know if he can do that without fucking crying. It'd just happened an hour ago, and he feels like shit. Feels like he didn't deserve her in the first place. He ends up knocking, though, and waits for Jensen to answer. "Hey," he says quietly, "it's - uh, it's me."

"Jared?" The word tumbled from his lips before he could even think twice about it and the surprised tone was crystal clear, too. He'd been expecting Misha, hell he'd been expecting anyone else but Jared. Wasn't he supposed to be with his beautiful, smart, caring girlfriend? So, maybe he was a bit jealous, who could blame him when Genevieve was all Jared ever talked about anymore? Licking his lips, he slowly opened the door and cocked a brow when he was met with his best friend's familiar face, although...his usually cheery eyes looked kind of puffy and red, like he'd been crying. Swallowing thickly, Jensen stepped aside, indicating Jared should come in and closed the door behind him once he did, taking a second before turning around and heading to the couch, sitting down next to the other man. A minute of silence passed them by before Jensen finally said what was on his mind. "Not that I mind you being here, but...aren't you supposed to be with your girlfriend?"

Jared sits up completely straight, palms flat against his thighs as he stares off into the distance for a few moments, trying to gather himself. "She, uh -" he starts, and his voice is rough. He can already feel his chest hurting - like if he /doesn't/ just cry, it'll explode. "I, uh -" He looks at Jensen - and then he looks down. "I broke up with her," he whispers. "Because I'm fucking stupid." His hands are shaking now, and he starts fiddling with the hem of his plaid over-shirt, blinking away the rapidly gathering moisture in his eyes. "I just - she's great, you know? And I didn't deserve her. I've been so fucking - depressive lately, and I just - I didn't want to get her involved. I didn't want to end up hurting her. I just - I need time to focus on myself, I think. On getting better. On being better." His face is flushed, a few tears sliding down the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, man - I didn't mean to -"

He notices Jared's changing demeanor right off the bat. The way he trips over his own words, trailing off and looking away as he starts taking deep breaths, almost to the point of hyperventilating and fuck, what exactly happened? It all makes sense though when the bomb is dropped, Jared broke up with Genevieve. Beer forgotten as he watches his best friend, his brother fall apart right in front of him, Jensen frowns and leans forward, resisting the growing urge to simply reach out and wipe away those tears, to take Jared in his arms and make everything better, because he could-he really could but it's not his place. "Breathe." That's the first word that comes out though because if Jared doesn't stop rushing he's actually gonna hyperventilate and he needs to calm down. "Hey, you don't have to apologize for anything, man. You know you can tell me anything." He does places a comforting hand on Jared's forearm though, thumb absently rubbing at the skin. "How did she take it?"

As soon as Jensen touches him - such a caring, gentle hand - Jared's face crumples. He swallows hard - trying to follow the other man's instructions, taking a deep breath and exhaling shakily. "I - uh," he starts, but nothing comes out. He takes a few minutes to compose himself, focusing on Jensen's big, warm hand on his arm instead. It feels nice - relaxing, even, and he starts to calm down. "She was great about it," he finally replies, and his voice is steadier. I mean, obviously that's not how she wanted things to go, but she was so supportive and kind and caring, which made me feel even worse. She wants to remain friends - and I do, too. I need more people like her - and you, Jensen - in my life." He shifts on the couch - and maybe it's just a little bit closer to Jensen - close enough that their legs are touching. He looks at him, giving him a tiny smile. "Thanks."

Jensen can see his hand running up and down Jared's arm is working; it makes sense, Jared's always been a touchy feely kind of guy, always the first one to initiate contact but he needs Jensen right now and he'll be damned if he isn't there for his best friend. His hand comes to a stop once Jared finally calms down, still taking deep breaths but Jensen doesn't pull away, instead keeping his hand there as an anchor, giving Jared something to hold onto. Nodding along to his words, Jensen looks down when the other inches closer, their legs touching but doesn't say anything about it, looking back up into grateful and yet, still sad hazel eyes. "Well, you know I'm never leaving, I'm here to stay and be a pain in your ass." Smiling softly, Jensen slowly pulls his hand away after a while. "I say we need to take your mind off of this, Jay. Hey, why don't you help me with my lines? I was just reading the script again."

Jared swallows hard, frowning a little bit when Jensen pulls his hand away. Not that he'd ever say anything, but it had felt incredible to have someone touch him like that - just to make him feel better. He shifts again, his knee brushing Jensen's, and nods slowly. "Yeah," he agrees softly. "Yeah, let's run lines or something." He shivers - and it's not because he's cold. It's because he can feel heat radiating from Jensen's body and he's suddenly /very/ aware of it. This man - this guy who's been his best friend going on five years now - has always been on his mind. He doesn't think Jensen's into guys - and honestly, he isn't sure he is himself, either - but he'd always wondered what it would be like to /be/ with someone like that. Someone who already knows you inside and out. Someone who, for all intents and purposes, already loves you. He blinks, feeling himself blush hot at the unwelcome intrusion of thoughts. "Yeah, let's run lines..." he says again softly.

Jared's face is flushed, a slight shade of pink, but Jensen remind himself it's because of the recent crying. Reaching for his script, Jensen settles on the last scene of the episode, the scene that's gonna be the most emotionally draining of them all; this is the last episode of the season and he wants to get this done before they have to film it on set. "Alright, how about we start here?" He leans closer to Jared so the taller man can see where he's pointing, glancing up and suddenly noticing how their faces are barely inches apart. Blinking dumbly for a second, Jensen licks his lips and puts some distance between them, clearing his throat and focusing on Dean and Sam, rather than Jared. He can do this, this is familiar territory by now.

For one wild moment, Jared thinks that Jensen might kiss him, even though that makes no fucking sense. He swallows hard, running his fingers through his hair and moving back a little bit when Jensen does. "Uh, sure..." he says, looking at the lines. He pauses, touching the paper, long fingers trailing over the words. The last episode had been difficult. Emotionally draining for everyone - especially the huge fight scene between the brothers at the end. He'd felt pretty shitty - because even if it's fake, beating up Dean - Jensen - at the end of the day just doesn't feel nice. "That was hard, huh? 'When the Levee Breaks'? he says softly.

Jensen's eyes follow Jared's slender, long fingers as they trail over the words, this not being the first time he wonders how they'd feel cupping his cheek or gripping his chin as he's pulled closer for a kiss. That same thought is what has his eyes trailing up to Jared's thin, pink lips, white teeth worrying at the lower one in concentration. It's been getting harder for Jensen to hide the fact that he's in love with his best friend. Looking away, Jensen rubs the back of his neck nervously and nods as he turns to look at Jared. "Yeah. It's always hard when they're fighting." Especially when they have to film a huge fight scene like in 'When the Levee Breaks'. It was always hard for everyone, not just them.

"Yeah," Jared murmurs. "Yeah, it's - it's difficult. I just - you know, that's my problem, sometimes. I get mixed up in Sam. I get mixed up in the relationship Sam and Dean have, and sometimes - even though I know it's not true - I feel like /you/ have this disdain for me, or I have disdain for you. But it's our characters." He bites his lower lip again. "And that past episode was especially hard because...and I know this sounds silly...it was like...they didn't love each other any more. And I don't like that." He swallows thickly, leaning closer to Jensen. "Can you do something kind of stupid for me?" he asks, voice quiet. "Can you...tell me you love me? But as Dean might say it to Sam? I think...I don't know. I just need to hear that. Sam needs to hear that. If that even makes sense." He finds himself trailing his fingers up Jensen's arm, barely even noticing that he's doing it.

Anyone else who might've been listening to Jared would've though he just needed to stop working so much, take a break from set and forget all about Sam and Dean and the mess that it's their life but Jensen got it. He got what Jared meant. It happened to him too, getting lost in Dean's thoughts, his feelings, the guilt and self loathing his character's been carrying around for years; once he got trapped in that mindset it was hard to snap out of it. "I know what you mean, Jay. I...I also know without having to look at the script, that they'll always end up going back to each other. Their bond is strong." Giving Jared a soft smile, Jensen didn't notice how they're too close once again, not until fingers start trailing up his arm anyway. Swallowing hard, Jensen looks down before looking back up slowly at his friend's words. "Yeah, of course. I..." He trails off and brings himself to /really/ look into those hazel eyes, that same, stupid flutter in his stomach arising once more. "I love you." The words are quiet, so utterly quiet they could pass for a whisper and he doesn't add 'Sammy' because he doesn't want to be Dean right now, he wants to mean it as Jensen, and he does. And it's hard because he wants them to mean more than as a friend.

Jared sags in visible relief when Jensen says that he'll oblige his request. He lets out a soft little sigh and leans closer, waiting for Jensen to start speaking. He lets his mind wander - kind of going to a happy, peaceful place - before he looks back at his best friend and smiles a little. When he starts speaking, though, Jared's heart stutters. It was not the 'I love you' he'd been expecting. Because he knows - he /knows/ - just by looking at Jensen, that he didn't say those words in character. He said them as himself. To /Jared/. His eyes widen and his cheeks grow hot and God help him, but he doesn't know what to do. Jensen loves him. Jensen /loves/ him. And he knows that he loves him - of course he does, they're best friends - they'd do anything for each other. But it's the way he'd said it - like he was practically staring right into Jared's soul. And God help him, but Jared doesn't know what to do - and that's how he finds himself clumsily pressing his lips to Jensen's, shy and sloppy, one hand braced on Jensen's thigh.

He knew that moment would come. The moment after he said those words and it all stops and Jared's still looking at him, eyes slightly wide and blushing and that goddamn unreadable expression on his face that Jensen doesn't know what to make of. He looks down then, wanting to put some distance between them once more, maybe joke about it to make the situation lighter and break the tension. He doesn't get to do any of that because suddenly Jared's lunging forward, one strong, big hand brace on his thigh and his lips are getting closer and-and there they are, pressing against Jensen's. There's no time to get lost in the kiss or marvel on how fucking wonderful it is because he's /kissing/ Jared. Jensen's shocked, lips still against his friend's.

Jared's breathing hard, fingers digging into Jensen's muscled thigh, lips still moving against his, and when he doesn't start kissing him back, he pulls away - feeling completely and utterly ridiculous. "U-Uh -" he stammers, his lips tingling, struggling to get distance between them. "Uh, oh, God - I'm sorry - I thought - I guess I just -" He's fumbling, trying to move back, and as he does, he completely loses his balance, and in typical Jared fashion, crashes to the floor with a hard /thunk/, landing on his wrist, crushing it beneath his own weight. He gasps at the sudden pain shooting through his arm, struggling to stand. "I'm - I'm sorry. I'll go -"

Just when his brain catches up with what's really happening, that's the exact same second Jared decides to pull away and really, isn't his life some sort of cliché romance comedy already, this really needs to happen too? "Jared, wait." He starts reaching out for him but then he's standing up and of course, clumsiest as ever, especially when he's nervous, Jared loses his balance and falls to the floor and fuck, was that the sound of something being crushed? "You hurt yourself. Don't go." His tone is less soft now, more firm, he sure as hell's not letting Jared go right now, especially not after he's just being kissed by the man in question. "C'mon, sit down." Tugging him by the sleeve of his shirt, Jensen gently touches the other man's wrist, cringing when Jared hisses in pain and Jensen shakes his head. "Fuck, Jare."

Jared's breathing hard, cradling his arm to his chest. "It's - it's fine," he whispers, flicking his eyes up to Jensen's, jolting a little bit when he touches him. "I'm fine - I swear. Just - I should go. I was an idiot. I need - I don't know what the hell's wrong with me, okay? I thought - I thought maybe that was something you wanted, but I guess I was reading everything the wrong way, and I'm really sorry, Jensen. I hope this doesn't affect our professional relationship and that we can still be friends - I understand if you don't want to." He knows, in his mind, that he's jumping to conclusions, barely giving Jensen a chance to speak, but this is what he does - just keeps going and going.

Jared's doing that thing again where he rambles, where he just keeps talking and doesn't give him a chance to speak. Eventually, he just can't take it anymore and Jensen snaps. "Jesus, Jared, just shut up." It's that harsh tone that works to shut him up and Jensen almost immediately feels guilty at those sad, wide puppy eyes staring back at him and fuck they look suspiciously watery again. Sighing, Jensen runs a hand through his hair, effectively messing it up and closes his eyes briefly, when they open they're soft and more understanding. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. It's just...man, your rambling just won't let get a damn word in and you really need to hear what I have to say because-" Fuck, now this is harder than he thought, /even/ after Jared's already kissed him. "Because I feel the same way, okay?"

Jared just stares at him for a few moments, wide-eyed and surprised, mouth working to say something - but he just snaps it shut. He's breathing hard, still clutching his arm to his chest, eyes trained on Jensen's chest. He eventually looks up, feeling his ears burn hot. "Oh," he says softly, swallowing hard, his racing heart finally slowing. "You - you do?" He looks at him - really hopeful - body tensed, like he'll just start running if it turns out Jensen's not being serious. But when he doesn't say, 'Haha, gotcha!', he starts to settle down. He smiles a little bit - looking really shy now, unable to keep making eye contact with him. "I - I've always had a crush on you," he says quietly. "I just - I don't know. I thought maybe it was because I idolize you, but it's something much deeper than that." He squirms a little bit. "I always think about us together."

The roles are reversed and suddenly Jared's the one struggling to find words, blushing and looking down and fuck, can the man be any more adorable? It shouldn't be fair, or even legal the way Jared's cheeks turn slightly pink and he squirms in the couch, talking about how he's always had a crush on Jensen. How come he never realized? How come Jared never realized? A smile tugs at the corner of his lips and Jensen finds himself leaning closer, reaching out and placing one hand on Jared's knee, squeezing tightly. "I wish I would've noticed sooner. I've also had a crush on you for quite a while now." He admits, looking down before looking back up and biting down on his lower lip.

Jared licks his lips, looking away - feeling a little bit embarrassed. "I guess - I guess I've always been bi-curious - wondering what it would be like to be with men, but I've never acted on it." He shrugs, still squirming a bit - trying not to make a complete fool out of himself. "But you've always been different. Uh, I think about you a lot, and I've had, u-uh - d-dreams about you and stuff, so...I guess...I've just...I've always been attracted to you. But never realize it was something I should act on or say something about. I know you'd never be mean if you didn't feel the same way, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship."

Jensen squeezes Jared's knee again, smile growing with each word that falls from Jared's lips, it's not mocking though but Jared's just too goddamn cute and adorable and it's really starting to sink in, the realization that Jared really feels the same way, Jensen kind of wants to smile until his cheeks start hurting and he can't take it anymore. "I meant what I said before. I didn't...that wasn't Dean talking, you know? That was me." This is harder for him. The statement 'I love you' it's a pretty big deal to him, he doesn't take that lightly, never even uttered those words when he was with Danneel because it wasn't there but Jared's always been different and Jensen...he's not as affectionate as his co-star, he has a hard time expressing himself and this is hard but Jared needs to know; it's how he really feels.

Jared's entire body tingles pleasurably from Jensen touching him - little rockets of desire ricocheting through his body, awakening him. "Yeah," he murmurs, listening carefully. "Yeah, Jensen. I - I definitely understood the message there." He swallows hard and looks at him, biting his lip. "Me, too," he whispers. "I - uh - me, too. I love you, too." The words are soft and sincere, easy for Jared to say because he's /always/ loved him, it seems. He hesitates for a second, and then he's kind of crawling into Jensen's lap, straddling him - one leg on either side of his hips - as he leans down and kisses him. He pulls away for a second, and then sags, letting his head drop onto his friend's chest.

Nodding slowly, Jensen's scared for a second there, afraid that the words won't be returned, maybe it's too soon, Jared did say he had a crush on him, never even mentioned the word 'love' and fuck, maybe he messed everything up-but then they're returned and that smile's definitely there now, the kind of smile that makes his cheeks hurt and Jared still looks awkward and shy but Jensen's on top of the world and it can't get better. Except that it can. His best friend's leaning down, legs braced on either side of his hips and their lips meet once more, it's soft and perfect and ends too quickly for him. Gripping Jared's chin with two fingers when his head drops on Jensen's chest, he forces him to look up, leaning forward for another kiss, this time wanting to make it last.

A shock of pleasure ripples through Jared's body when Jensen suddenly grips his chin - and honestly, he's just as surprised when a long, drawn-out sound of need leaves his lips. "O-Oh," he groans softly, kissing him back, pressing their hips more snugly together. Their groins are brushing against each other, and Jared would be lying if he said he hadn't fantasized about this sort of thing at last once - maybe twice - a week. "Oh, God..." His eyes flutter closed, and he kisses Jensen harder, body taut with desire. "Wanted this for so long..." he whispers against his mouth.

This is the third time he's kissed Jared and Jensen starts thinking that he can't get enough, he needs /more/, he needs everything Jared will give him because he's wanted this for so long and it's so much better than anything he ever imagined. "Jared." He whispers against those soft lips and lets one hand trail up Jared's back, feels him /shivering/ under his touch and as their hips press together, groins brushing against each other, Jensen can't help the soft, breathy moan that leave his lips. "God, I want you." They should wait, they should take care of Jared's hand because it's obviously injured but as he's rocking his hips up, Jensen can't afford to think about anything else but Jared.

Jared's breath catches in his throat - and God, he's gone from zero to sixty so fucking fast. Every single one of his nerves feels like it's on fire; he's sweating through his clothes, dick hard in his jeans - face completely flushed with desire. "I want you, too," he chokes out, and he rocks down harder, squeezing his thighs around Jensen's hips for extra friction. He kisses him again, one hand now fisted in Jensen's shirt, as if to pull him closer. "Never wanted anyone so much." His whole body shudders, and he finds himself whispering frantic confessions against Jensen's mouth - nervous and a little bit rambly. "I haven't had sex in a really long time. Like - a /long/ time," he mumbles. "And, uh - u-uh - like I said, I've never been with a - a-ah - G-God, yes - guy -" He presses his face down into Jensen's chest and grinds harder, using the older man's body for leverage.

It's not how it was supposed to be, because Jensen might be a hopeless romantic deep, /deep/ inside, he thought it would be filled with silly confessions about how long they've had crushes on each other and yeah, in a way it was but he never stopped to think about this part, the part where his cock is already rock hard in his tight jeans and his chest is rising up and down, breaths getting heavier each time Jared rocks down harder, creating that delicious, sweet friction between them. It's even better than his fantasy. Jared's rambling again and it seriously ought to piss him off but he can't bother to even shut him up, not when they're grinding faster, harder now, moving against each other and Jesus, he's going to come in his pants like a teenager. "I-I've never...never bee with a guy- ugh- either." He pulls back to stare into Jared's eyes, hips still rocking up, green eyes blown with desire and his pink, full lips parting open. "Just you. Only-only ever wanted you. Fuck." The last word is moaned and he grips Jared tighter by the back of his neck, eyes closing as a shock of pleasure runs through his body, their dicks brushing against each other.

Jared knows - damn well /knows/ - he's making embarrassing noises right now, body tingling all over, getting more and more tense as he gets closer to orgasm. His hips are stuttering and his breath is short, but he can't stop rocking against Jensen, head falling back a few times as he struggles to keep himself together. "U-Uh," he whimpers out, and God knows he might get shit for that later, but he doesn't care. Everything feels tight and warm - and his jeans are fucking /soaked/ with pre-come - and wet. With a shaking hand, he manages to pull open Jensen's shirt, grateful that for once he isn't wearing something under it. Struggling to control himself - and fucking /shuddering/ when Jensen grabs the back of his neck - he dips forward to seal his mouth around one of his nipples, tugging it between his teeth, flicking his tongue over it, grunting softly as he keeps rocking his hips.

His breaths are heavy and short and he just can't keep himself upright anymore, head falling back on the couch as they both rock their hips, it's messy and not exactly coordinated but it works and Jensen can /feel/ the precome staining his boxers, his fucking jeans, cock twitching with every movement of his hips, every time Jared's dick brushes against his own and Jesus Christ, he can feel just how big the other man is. Little shocks of pleasure are coursing through his body but when Jared leans down to seal his mouth around one of his nipples- he hadn't even noticed Jared pulled it open- Jensen gasps. Not his throat, his neck, not his ear but his nipples, that's what really gets him going, of course he almost never got any action there, most girls don't really like toying with guy's nipples but fuck Jared's so fucking good at this. "D-D-Don't stop." He's stuttering so much, barely getting the words out between gasps and moans and there might've been one tiny whimper there but he doesn't care.

Jared keeps rocking, moaning softly as he teases Jensen's nipples, switching back and forth between them, until they're both swollen and rosy pink - and probably almost too sensitive to keep touching. Feeling invigorated by Jensen's noises and the way he keeps rolling his hips upwards, towards Jared, he starts rambling. And he can't fucking stop. "Wanted this for so long - dreamed about this. Wanted nothing more than for you to touch me. Do you know how hard it is to do a scene when it's opposite /you/? When Sam and Dean are standing close together - touching each other - and I'm /hard/ for you?" He kisses Jensen again, whimpering into his mouth. "Thought about you inside me. Thought about you having your fucking way with me, Jensen. Pinning me down. Doing whatever the hell you fucking /please/." He growls softly, kissing Jensen's mouth - licking into it as he keeps grinding against him. "You make me so fucking wet. You have no idea." His face is flushed, hair sticking up in every direction. And then - God, and then he's suddenly slowing, hips stuttering. He forces himself to stop - but not before raking his fingernails down Jensen's chest - as he drops to his knees in front of him on the couch. His hands are shaking with excitement as he opens Jensen's jeans, popping the fly and unzipping him. He reaches into his boxers - squeezes his hot, hard, cock, and pulls it free. Licking his lips, he leans forward - and takes the head completely into his mouth. And, well - now that he has fucking dick in his mouth, he's not sure what to do except softly suck at it.

The moans send vibrations through his body and his nipples are so sensitive, swollen and a rosy pink by now and Jensen can't take it anymore, if Jared keeps going like this, he's going to come very soon and Jensen doesn't want this to be over yet. Luckily for him, Jared pulls away after a moment, their hips rocking together once more and this time they're kind of setting a pace together, it makes everything better and-and it makes him more wet and Jensen still wants more. Jared's rambling again but fuck, those words, that fucking filthy mouth the taller man suddenly has on him, it takes everything in Jensen not to shoot his load right there. "I want that. I-I want everything, Jay." Everything he just said, he wants to try everything right now and make up for the time he lost, trapped in his own self loathing and his dark thoughts of rejection and disgust. A low groan falls from his lips when nails rake down his chest and suddenly Jared's stopping, almost getting a whine out of Jensen, that is until his former best friend is sinking to his knees, popping the button of his jeans open and unzipping them. "Jared..." He reached out with one hand to run fingers through his long hair, swallowing thickly and trying to muffle a groan when soft lips take the head of his cock into that tight heat.

Moments earlier, Jared had been a dirty-talking filth machine. And now that he's here - down on his knees - he feels kind of shy. And a little humbled, to be honest, because Jensen is /not/ small. He's thick and long and - and /fuck/. He pulls off for a second, licking away the pre-come coating his lips. He blinks up at Jensen, shivering at the fingers in his hair, and asks - so very seriously, "How the hell does that thing fit in /anywhere/?" He squirms, stomach muscles clenching in excitement at the thought of it being pressed inside him, stretching him wide. "G-God -" He grips Jensen's cock again and puts it back in his mouth, sucking on the head again, but this time moving his tongue around, digging it in the slit. He fondles his balls with his other hand, sighing softly, feeling how heavy and full they are. He opens his mouth wider and goes down further, taking his cock in - and this is when he discovers that yes, he does have a gag reflex, and yes - it is fucking sensitive. He pulls off for a second, still gripping the base, gagging and sputtering, pre-come and saliva dribbling down his mouth. His eyes are a little wet from the momentary forceful cough. "S-Sorry," he stammers out. "I'm - I've never done this before. You'll have to bear with me."

He knows it's not the time, much less the situation to laugh, but Jared's words, especially the serious manner in which they're said has Jensen laughing breathlessly, face still flushed and still turned on as hell but there's something good about that, something familiar in the fact that even now when he's exposed and almost fully naked in front of Jared, it's still just /Jared/, still the dorky, clumsy goofball he fell in love with. It's nice to remember this is someone he /loves/, it's not just fooling around with anyone. "I-I can assure you it'll fit." Jensen mutters and looks down, swallowing thickly as the smile falls off his face, biting down on his lower lip when Jared starts sucking on the head again, moaning softly when his tongue drags across the slit and a choked sound stumbles when a big, warm hand starts playing with his balls. It's messy, it's sloppy and Jared definitely has a gag reflex but the image of precome and saliva dribbling down Jared's shiny lips it's too fucking hot that Jensen doesn't even care. "Just...just keep going, Jay."

Jared looks up at him and gives him a soft, shy smile. This is a man he admires, loves, and looks up to. He doesn't want to disappoint him, even though he knows that's a dumb thought to have. Encouraged by Jensen's gentle words, he does keep going, eyes closing a little bit as his hair's toyed with. He really enjoys that - it definitely makes everything a lot more relaxed, and he finds the more he sucks at Jensen, the more unresisting his mouth becomes, and he's able to take him deeper. Yeah, it's sloppy and uncoordinated and messy, but he's definitely putting his best foot forward. Feeling a little bit better, he starts to move up and down on him a little bit, slurping loudly, making a mess on his own face and on his clothes. He squeezes his cock a little bit, using both his hands and his mouth to work at getting him off. He moans softly around his dick and looks up at him from beneath his eyelashes, flushed and looking full of lust.

Throwing his head back once more, Jensen keeps toying with Jared's hair as the other sucks him off, licking and sucking and playing with his balls and the longer he does it, it feels like he can fit more of Jensen's cock into his mouth. Pulling tightly when Jared's tongue stabs at the slit repeatedly, precome just oozing into Jared's awaiting tongue, Jensen makes the mistake of looking down and chokes on a moan because-good god, Jared's face is a mess, so are his clothes but those eyes, full of lust and desire, that's what gets to him. One hand trails down to grip the base of his cock, the rational part of his brain telling him to warn Jared because of course he doesn't wanna come in his mouth if the other doesn't want it, that would just be awkward and uncomfortable. "Jared...Jay, I'm gonna come." He warns in a breath voice, lips forming the shape of an 'O' as he tries to hold it back.

Jared's own toes curl a bit, and he squirms when Jensen says that. God, yes - he wants that. He wants Jensen to come, wants him to come in his mouth. He knows it's just gonna end up being a huge mess, but he wants to try it. Wants to feel it. He sucks harder, not pulling back, still stroking him and touching his balls, moaning around his dick and keeping eye contact with him. He pulls off - only for a second, a string of pre-come trailing from the head of Jensen's cock to his mouth. "Come in my mouth," he whispers. "Mess me up, Jen." He starts sucking again - sucking harder and faster, taking him deeper. He's still gagging a little bit, but he pushes through it, swallowing around that thick, messy dick.

Jared's not stopping, he looks even more turned on when Jensen warns him he's close, actually and the thought that Jared might want him to come in his mouth has him biting down a groan, still squeezing at the base of his dick to keep from coming. Jared finally pulls back, a string of precome connecting his mouth to the head of his cock and it's about the hottest thing Jensen's ever seen. Jared's not discouraged at all, in fact, he's telling Jensen to do it-come in his mouth and starts sucking faster, harder, /deeper/. God-he can't. He can't. He's gonna-with a drawn out moan that basically consists of Jared's name, Jensen feels his dick pulsing as he comes, the muscles in his body straining as his hips lift off the couch.

Jared gasps - gagging a little bit when the first pulse of come hits his tongue - but he quickly learns to adapt, swallowing around Jensen's dick as he shoots his hot, sticky load into his mouth. He keeps doing that, swallowing him - swallowing his come - as his hips twitch and his cock pulses in Jared's mouth. He moans softly, whimpering, stroking him to encourage him through his orgasm, wanting it to be good for him, his own toes curling as he sucks him off. When he's finally done, Jared pulls off with an obscene sound, shaking a little bit, throat raw from the thorough fucking it had just received. He lets out a shaky breath lies his head down on Jensen's thigh, mouth sore and jaw tight. "Fuck," he whispers. "Fuck, that's the hottest thing I've ever done..."

Jared takes it like a champ, sure there's a lot of come dribbling down his mouth but most of it manages it to go inside his mouth and Jared's swallowing it all, it only makes it even hotter and after such an intense orgasm, Jensen doubts he can get hard again but fuck, if he could, it would be just from watching Jared's messy face. Throwing his head back, Jensen breathes through the aftershocks, his whole body still tingling but he's not done yet. "C'mere." He wants Jared beside him, wants-wants to get him off too. Jensen waits until Jared finds the energy to push himself off and almost immediately attacks his mouth, tasting himself in Jared's lips as he kisses him.

Jared kisses him back, letting Jensen ravish his mouth. He's sure that he looks anything but appealing right now, with his sweaty hair and messy face, but Jensen's kissing him harder and harder, touching him in all the right places. He opens his mouth for him, letting Jensen slide his tongue inside to taste himself, and groans softly. His stomach clenches nervously at the though of Jensen getting into his jeans, though - even if it's a good kind of nervous. "Um," he whispers against his mouth. "Um, just as a warning - I, uh - I don't have any pubic hair." He flinches, thinking how ridiculous that sounds - but he doesn't want Jensen to think that, like, he can't /grow/ it or something. "I sometimes get it waxed off." He squirms a little, tucking some hair behind his ear. "Is that weird?"

Jensen slips his tongue into Jared's mouth, one hand trailing up to cup Jared's cheek, the kiss is hard and passionate but there's also a gentle touch that Jensen makes sure is not missing because he needs Jared to remember, he needs to remember himself, that they love each other. The thought has him smiling against Jared's lips. He pull away when Jared starts talking, his hand trailing down and clutching Jared's shirt, although he does frowns when he hears how nervous Jared actually sounds. Blinking twice at the news, Jensen licks his lips and looks down where Jared's jeans are still in the way. It doesn't exactly turn him off, it's just unexpected but how could it change the way he felt for Jared? "Well, thanks for the warning but all I can think about is getting your cock in /my/ mouth." Jensen chuckles softly and leans forward to peck Jared's lips quickly, aware of how self conscious his best friend got. "Not weird. You're fucking hot no matter what, Jare."

Jared looks down, swallowing hard. "Okay," he says softly, hoping it doesn't weird his friend out too much. "I only do it because I like the way it feels when I touch myself." He shrinks back a little, embarrassed. "God, I need to stop talking." He runs a hand over his face, cheeks pink. "Just - I'll grow it out now. So you don't fee like you're going down on, like, a fucking teenager or something." He laughs nervously and then he's standing up. "Um," he says. "Maybe I can help a little?" Swallowing hard, he shrugs out of his over-shirt - and then pulls off his t-shirt. And then slowly - deliberately slow - he unbuttons his jeans and kicks them off, standing only in his boxers. He starts to pull those off, too, and they stick to his body, pre-come pooled in them. He kicks them to the side and stands in front of Jensen, completely naked, bare cock flushed bright red - and shiny wet - curling towards his belly. He sways a little, moving towards Jensen's bed, whole body flushed with excitement and arousal.

"Jared." Jensen stops him before the other can stand up, taking his wrist in his hand and rubbing his thumb over the soft skin. "You need to stop being so self conscious, I love you no matter what." There are those words again, it starts getting easier for Jensen. "And I can assure you that whether you have hair or not, you're as hot as ever, which is really fucking hot." He assures the other with a smile and leans forward for another kiss before letting him go and watching as he stands up, swallowing when Jared pulls off his shirt, his muscles and abs visible to Jensen's hungry eyes now and when he pulls off his boxers, fuck-it's...it's actually pretty hot. Maybe he should start waxing too. Jared's cock is bright red and wet with precome and Jensen can actually feel his mouth watering at the sight. God, he's never sucked a cock before and yet...yet he wants it so badly. Standing up, Jensen pushes Jared down on the bed gently, landing on top of him with a soft thud, taking a moment just to admire his body, his naked, exposed body. "God, you're beautiful." It's not what he'd usually say but it's true and he can't help it.

Jared lands on the bed with a soft thud, back pressed against the mattress as he lets Jensen take the leader for a little bit. If he wasn't so fucking hard right now - and so excited for this adventure they're embarking on - he'd be tuckered. He smiles up at him and lets his legs fall open a bit. "Thanks," he whispers, even if he doesn't know he believes it. "You - you are, too, Jensen. The most beautiful person I've ever seen. Seriously." His cock twitches and pre-come pools on his belly. "God, I just...I want you so much. And I love you so much." He blushes again, realizing that Jensen's looking him up and down, making him hot all over. Biting his lip, he reaches down between his legs and gives his cock a little tug, hips arching off the bed, back muscles tensing. "God," he breathes, eyes half-lidded with lust. "God, Jensen. I'm so fucking ready for you." He thumbs at the slit, whimpering a little bit. And before he can stop himself, he whispers, "/Please/," and he doesn't know why he's begging when Jensen is /right/ there, but the word just leaves his mouth.

Jensen can't stop admiring Jared's body and he wants to kiss every part of his body, every patch of skin he can get his lips on, he wants to worship Jared's body because it's the most beautiful thing Jensen's ever seen and he doesn't really realize until now just how in love with Jared he is. "Anything." Jensen breathes and leans down to start trailing down a path of wet, lingering kisses on his chest, tongue licking around a nipple before he bites down softly on the tub, working it until it's hard and swollen. "I'll do anything you want, Jared. Tell me what you want." He wants to wrap his hand around that hard, wet dick waiting for him, wants to wrap his lips around the head and suck, he wants-he wants to bury himself inside of Jared and give him everything he asks for.


End file.
